


Goodbye To All Of The Future

by erini



Series: BAD END [1]
Category: Dangan Ronpa - All Media Types, Dangan Ronpa 3: The End of 希望ヶ峰学園 | The End of Kibougamine Gakuen | End of Hope's Peak High School, Dangan Ronpa: Trigger Happy Havoc, Super Dangan Ronpa 2
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Pre-Despair (Dangan Ronpa), Reader-Insert, canon Divergence - Danganronpa 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-08-24
Updated: 2021-02-23
Packaged: 2021-03-06 22:28:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 15
Words: 57,873
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26006476
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/erini/pseuds/erini
Summary: As the Ultimate Film Director, you travel down the road to true despair.
Relationships: Chiaki Nanami & Reader, Enoshima Junko & Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko, Hajime Hinata & Reader, Hinata Hajime & Nanami Chiaki, Junko Enoshima & Reader, Kazuichi Soda & Reader, Koizumi Mahiru & Sato, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko & Kuzuryu Natsumi, Kuzuryu Fuyuhiko & Pekoyama Peko, Nagito Komaeda & Reader
Series: BAD END [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1987495
Comments: 7
Kudos: 30





	1. Player and Protagonist Integration

The earliest memory, the defining memory, for you was sitting in front of a television screen.

It would seem sad that your childhood was spent in front of a screen, but in truth your wouldn't have it any other way. School all day, home, and then television until your parents came home. The small world your created for yourself was perfect, peaceful. The lull of routine was your comfort from reality. 

Your younger brother was seated next to you, eyes barely kept open as he tried to continue watching the movie. The soft blue light of the screen illuminated his soft features, an unearthly glow that made him yawn with fatigue. In the dark, the television screen was the only source of light in your dark household.

After all, movies were meant to be watched in the dark!

A large blanket was draped over the both you in a soft, almost protective embrace against the dark of your home. Your brother's body heat, the reassuring weight of his head on your forearm was enough to make you feel tired as well. 

You felt your eyelids become heavier, almost yielding to fatigue with a small yawn. However, a sound penetrated your tiny bubble of warmth and dull light, piercing through the thin veil of near slumber. 

**_Creeaaaak_ **

The soft groan of your front door, followed by heavy footsteps of your step-father then your mother echoed through the once quiet house, reaching you and your brother's ears, which perked in attention. 

"[name]! Hikaru! Are you awake?" your mother asked from the door, turning on the lights from the entrance hall. A few clicks of her heels and a flip of a light switch, your living room was suddenly bathed in the same yellow light causing Hikaru to become fully awakened.

"They're here! They're here!" 

Your voice united with your brother as sync as always, always together, always as one. 

You and Hikaru nearly leaped off the couch, feet kicking away the blanket before it fell to the floor. Hikaru left the couch first, almost tangling himself in the blanket as he rushed towards the door before you followed close behind.

Your mother placed her work bag on the kitchen floor, adjoining her husband's and then locking you in a tender embrace. You returned the hug, arms locking her into an almost vice-grip. Your nose snuggled into your mother's hair, the scent of her favorite perfume faint now on her hair from being out all day. 

It calmed your heart, knowing that she was there with you. 

Unwrapping yourself from your mother, you looked up eagerly at your mother and father, eyes glinting from childish mirth. "How was your day?" you asked your parents. Your father, who was gently carrying Hikaru, placed his son down and smiled at you. Despite your young age, you understood that this man was not your biological father and that Hikaru was only your half-brother.

But, blood mattered little to you. This man was your father and you were his daughter, there was no doubt of that in your mind. 

Because he _chose_ to treat you like his daughter even if you were fathered by another man. 

Choice was stronger than blood.

"Wonderful. Tiring, but just seeing your face is enough to make me feel better," he says to you, giving an affectionate ruffle of your hair. You giggled as his large hand mussed your locks, the affectionate gesture warming your heart. and spreading through your entire body. 

Immediately, you pulled his hand to the living room. Nearly jumping up and down in excitement, you pulled her father towards the living room. "Watch the movie with us! We're near the good parts!" 

He raised a brow at the innocent you, who was so eagerly pulling him to the television screen, "And what were you watching…?"

You froze and shot a look towards Hikaru, who returned the gesture. The two of you were always on the same wavelength, a result of their extended amount of time spent with each other. You and your brother can anticipate each other's thoughts, emotions and actions with such accuracy that it was almost frightening.

"We were watching Spirited Away," Hikaru replied to him. "Nothing bad!" An innocent white lie meant to conceal, no real harm....

Because there was _no way_ you were going to tell your parents that you were watching Battle Royale.

Your mother cast Hikaru a doubtful look, but decided to let it go. Work was stressful and she didn't have the energy to deal with you and your brother's antics. "I see…." she said, quiet sigh leaving her lips, "Well, I'll cook up a quick dinner. Just watch the movie with Daddy and I'll be there."

You gave a grin, "Mommy, you better hurry the best parts are gonna be over!"

Her mother laughed, "Right, right. Just be a good girl and save me a good seat then."

There was nothing wrong with having a small world. There was nothing wrong with even wanting to stay in that small world.

But, such desires mattered little in the face of reality.

* * *

"And with _this_ magical item, we're gonna create own movies, little brother!"

In a dramatic flourish, you struck a pose, video camera held high in your hand. The metallic gleam of your birthday present glinted in the Sun and Hikaru could only look up at you, his older sister, in admiration.

"M-Movies….Do you really think we can do that?" he asked, nervously.

He didn't share your zeal when it came to things, nervous and unsure what to do unless you assured him. Your guidance was always right because.....you were older so you knew better. 

If you said that they could do it, then you were absolutely right!

"Of course! I made a script and everything, so it'll be good. And we even spent the entire night making some costumes, right?" It had taken a week, but your mother was able to prepare what you had in mind for your first film project. What you had in mind was one scene, since you had one actor and limited amount of resources for a ten-year old child.

But, you never let limits stop you. What you yearned for was to see your vision captured on video, projected onto a screen and seen by others. Not for the sake of others, but for your own. 

He nodded weakly, "O-Okay…But, since we're in the park, won't it be embarrassing if someone sees us?"

You grinned reassuringly and gave him a comforting pat on the back. "Of course not. I mean, if we're gonna make our own movies one day, then let's get used to having an audience."

"And if someone laughs? Or what if they hate it?" Hikaru inquired once more, looking down at his feet.

"Then…." You paused, thinking. "I dunno? But, you never know until you try, right?" 

Hikaru stared at you, determination still wavering before you continued to speak. "And besides, I'll protect you, Hikaru! Because you're my brother, after all!" you declared to him, resolve so firm that it stunned your younger brother for a moment. Again, there was that pang of jealousy mixed with admiration in his gut. But, nonetheless, he quelled it and gave a nod. 

"...Okay, big sis. I'll...give it a try."

* * *

After receiving that camera, you seemed to have a knack for directing. It was a complicated job, but you were perfect at it. You had the communication skills, the ability to say things that needs to be said, and the leadership to unite people under the same banner. And despite severe limitations, you made the best of what she had.

Your passion and creativity shown through her films, eventually leading to national acclaim. Even Hikaru shared in your fame, showing up in your earlier films and displaying potential as an actor.

Such hope, such potential.

It was exactly what Hope's Peak Academy was looking for.

* * *

Growing up, your realized you never really had a friend. All you needed was your small world and everyone else was just a background character. 

Your former classmates, the people you worked with, the strangers on the street....they were just another mob character, another story that was completely boring and lacking in charm.

You knew how horrible these thoughts were, how arrogant and apathetic they were. Not even Hikaru knew how you looked down on other people. But, you couldn't help it. It was just what you felt.

You didn't care for people if they weren't interesting. If they didn't spark your fancy, then they weren't worth a second thought. 

However, a school filled with Ultimates.....Now, _that_ was just a treasure trove of fascinating people. Characters of varying backgrounds, personalities, and appearances made themselves known in the academy of hope. It was as if they were all the main characters that you sought for.

The Ultimate Princess, Sonia Nevermind, caught your attention with her obsession with the occult and air of nobility. Despite the conflicts of her royal image and macabre interest, you formed a tight friendship with Sonia. 

The Ultimate Photographer's talent was similar to your own and you had expected her to have a similar temperament as yourself. However, Mahiru was a fun and serious character who genuinely tried to take care of the class. 

It took a few months before you began to see your classmates as friends, humans with emotions, problems, and insecurities just like any other person. These....were your first friends, people you genuinely liked and enjoyed being with.

As soon as your heart opened up to your "colorful" classmates, you became friends with Class 77-B's class rep, Chiaki Nanami. You were researching the Twilight Syndrome game series due to being in charge with making a movie to celebrate its tenth anniversary. It was such a retro game that you had to ask the Ultimate Gamer for some advice as research didn't give you a good feel for what your film should be like. You had to do some personal research with a true fan that played the game. 

Striking up a conversation with Chiaki, later turned into chats during breaks, hang-outs at the cafe, and after-school hours playing games. And it was since then, you formed a strong bond with the Ultimate Gamer. 

She was an irreplaceable friend one that you would greet each day and enthusiastically chat with no matter the topic. It was also because of her influence that you reached out towards your classmates with the intent of friendship. 

It was a short time after befriending the Ultimate Gamer that you (probably, kiiiiiind ooooof???) befriended Nagito.

You had to admit, however, that his title as the Ultimate Lucky Student was what sparked your interest into talking to him. He was weird....in a good way for about 90% of the time. Coupled with his string of good and bad luck, you felt that you could never run out of ideas with him. 

You saw him as complex character in her mind, but….as a person, you couldn't quite place Nagito.

Sure, he was dangerous and more cunning than he let on. And sure, he gave you the impression of a corpse. And sureee, Nagito was prone to self-deprecation and strange rants about hope.

But, even so, you liked Nagito's company.

That fact didn't change.

* * *

Within that year, the world changed. Your world expanded, looked brighter in your eyes. Now, you hung out with Sonia at the dining hall, took pictures with Mahiru, played games with Chiaki, and talking with Nagito. Life for you wasn't just about movies anymore. 

Now, your world was made of the the school memories you made together with your friends, the memories that made your chest feel warm and eager for tomorrow. 

For the first time, you thought that this happiness could be called hope.

But, such stupid things, mattered little in the face of reality.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: long time no see yall. am i back into writing fanfiction??? probably??? anyways, i recently returned to my edgy high school days and now im writing for danganronpa again. like before, the whole plot of the DR3 left a bad taste in my mouth, so for the sake of this fic, i will be changing some stuff. some changes include: 
> 
> 1.) In this fic, the DR3 anime events will be taking place during Class 77th's second year, shortly after Class 78 is admitted. 
> 
> 2.) we despair like real men. the only time i'll be including brainwashing is when during the Reserve Course's m*ss su*cid* and Chisa's recruitment into Ultimate Despair
> 
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	2. Bitch In Sheep's Clothing

Memories were a tricky thing.

You muddle through countless conversations, experiences, and scenery, a blurry mess of daily life. Nothing stands out in your once-upon-a-time high school life. Regardless, for some reason your meeting with Junko Enoshima was clear and crisp, like your favorite childhood memory.

* * *

Sitting in the mass of supportive friends and families of the 78th batch of students, you listened as Jin Kirigiri gave his usual speech about the academy, how their talents would lead the way to mankind's future, and blahblahblah.

If you had to be honest, you would have thought it was the same speech as last year.

Brushing off the sense of déjà vu in the headmaster's words, you instead focused on Hikaru's accomplishment for being accepted into the academy as the Ultimate Actor. And mixed in with your pride and elation for your brother, there was a hint of jealousy in your heart. 

Last year, not one of your family members attended your own entrance ceremony. Your parents, who worked in the same company, were called for a work emergency. At the time, you were understanding about their plight, but seeing as they easily made time for Hikaru did make you a bit irritated, at first. 

Despite your envy and annoyance, you were still proud of Hikaru. Ever since entering and dorming at Hope's Peak, you weren't as close to your family as you used to. So, it made you eager to be with your brother since he was also going to live on campus. 

It was going to be fun, seeing your brother everyday. 

As soon as the headmaster dismissed the audience and students, there was a round of proud applause which you joined in, careful not to sound too loud for Hikaru. 

The crowd shifted into a mass of bodies, the white noise of congratulations becoming a wall of sounds that made it hard to think. 

Even with the sea of people, half of which were dressed in the same brown uniform as yourself, you could pick out your brother as if he were the only person in the room. You carefully shifted through the strangers and students, aiming for that mop of dark hair, perfectly cut and trimmed by his agency to preserve his image.

Your parents followed closely behind, rushed 'excuse me's' lost in the din of the gym. Almost immediately, you spotted Hikaru's dark, messy hair and, as if he was a beacon, you briskly walked over to him.

Your hand clasped over his shoulder, causing Hikaru to jolt slightly in surprise.

“Yo, Ultimate Actor!” you teasingly greeted him, playful grin on your face. 

Hikaru was devastatingly handsome, with a large and lean frame that gently hovered over most. A gentle giant that could do whatever he set his mind to. Hikaru was adorable in that boy-next-door kind of way, youthful and reliable.

Essentially, he was the living, breathing Reliable-Older-Brother trope.

The actor smiled sheepishly, obviously embarrassed by your actions, his guide, the _director_. Despite your somewhat overbearing personality, Hikaru loved you nonetheless.

Yet.... 

He gently stepped away from you, going down a hallway that was the opposite of your classroom. Towards his _own_ class.

“Sorry, sis. I...don’t want to get lost on the first day...Soooo….I’ll be trying to get used to these hallways on my own first," Hikaru says to you apologetically, gaze shifting towards his would-be-classmates. 

You stared at him, caught off guard by his subtle rejection and before you can mull over the gentle churning of disappointment in your stomach—

"[name]," your mother said, kind hand on your shoulder, "Your father and I will accompany Hikaru to his class. How about you go and do some catching up with your friends?"

You blinked, trying to register your mother's words before giving a slight smile. "O-Okay... I'll see you guys after school for that celebratory dinner?"

"Yeah. We'll pick you and Hikaru up after school, then head over to the restaurant," your father said. He gave you a quick hug before muttering 'goodbyes' with your mother. You returned the gesture, waving your family off with a small smile. 

You dismissed the prickle of rejection, the subtle feeling of loneliness as they walked away from you. It brought a bitter reminder of your own lonely ceremony, but you pushed it down, desperate not to let it ruin the mood. 

_'They're just proud of Hikaru….That's it.'_

* * *

You were being avoided. 

It took you a few weeks come to that conclusion and then another to gather the courage to confirm it. The end result was waiting outside Hikaru's classroom until lunch to test your suspicions. Though, you were starting to regret it because you looked _and_ felt like a crazy stalker. 

As soon as the lunch bell rang, the masses of students flooded out into the hallways like fishes released from a net. Your stomach lurched when you felt the concerned stares of the other students. However, you brushed them off and kept your resolve firm. 

You just wanted to see if Hikaru was lying to you. _That's it._ Then, you were going to leave and have lunch with Nagito or something to forget the entire situation. No matter what conclusion you arrived at, you weren't going to feel bad, because Hikaru was his own person with his own life, because you had other things to worry about, because it was none of your business—

 _'[name], you fucker,'_ you chastised yourself, gently slapping your cheeks, _'stop overthinking for one second. Your life would be soooo much easier if you just stopped thinking. Life isn't a movie with a large over-reaching plot. Things just happen that are out of your control.'_

The class door opened and the colorful students Hope's Peak was known for began filtering out to the cafeteria. Even if it was just a short wait to find your brother, the fearful possibility of him actively avoiding you made time slow to a crawl. Hidden around the corner of the hallway, you felt your Hikaru-senses tingle and immediately found him walking towards the canteen shoulder-to-shoulder with a red-headed teen and a mousy brunette girl. 

_'Not up for lunch my ass,_ ' you thought to yourself, biting your lip. Betrayal and irritation boiling in the pit of your stomach, you weakly checked your phone for Hikaru's messages. Each one mocked you, jeering at how willingly you blinded yourself. 

* * *

_'One of my classmates wanted to ask me about the new live action of Masked Secrets! He's a big fan of that author and he's being suuuuuper annoying about it lmao'_

_'I have some business with Makoto, so I can't today. Sorry, big sis!_ 😅' 

_'My agency said I have to be on diet for rehearsal next month..I'm gonna be skipping lunch for a few weeks.'_

* * *

You closed your messages, shoving your phone back into your pockets. 

Now that you saw it with your own two eyes, it was hard to deny it. Yet, you didn't have the will to say it aloud. If you said it, you would be forced with the reality that Hikaru wanted to get away from you, his sister, people that were meant to grow up together, take care of each other. 

_'That lying ass! We always have lunch together, but....he ditched me. Lied to my face.'_ You stewed in your anger, gaze focusing into a glare at his retreating back. Hurt, loneliness, and rejection all mixed together into your heart, spreading to your entire body—

"Hey, what are you doing here?"

You yelped in surprise, too lost in your emotions to notice that someone had snuck up behind you. Leaping into the opposing hallway, away from Hikaru's classroom, you saw the person that was speaking to you. 

She was…beautiful, completely unforgettable as you immediately recognized who the girl. She was one of the freshmen, a model that was accepted into the school as the Ultimate Fashionista: Junko Enoshima.

Her face could be found everywhere, from the front pages of magazines to the large digital billboards downtown. A walk to school wouldn't be normal if you didn't see her modeling a new collection somewhere. Known for being "simply not fake", there was also a portion of Junko memes on the Internet including the _Junko Enoshima Starter Pack_ (mostly showing off expensive high heels, Gucchi, Chanel, and other top brands that would make any influencer jealous). With dedicated blogs and accounts made in her name, no corner of the world was safe from Junko's reputation. She was praised as a god in the beauty community and you couldn't even watch a makeup tutorial without the creator mentioning Junko at least once.

And true to her Ultimate title, Junko was dressed as flashy and as fashionable as you expected. Her uniform was left partially open to reveal a sizable chest and the short skirt only emphasized her long, porcelain like legs. Junko's hair appeared soft to the touch, pale blonde that shined even in the hallway lighting and were tied into twin-tails.

What caught you off guard were her eyes. They were a soft shade of blue like the sky, reflecting the light of the ocean. Despite that, her gaze met yours you felt you felt the hairs on the back of your neck stand at attention.

 _'I-It doesn't feel like she's just looking at me. Is she staring right through me…..?'_ you wondered, hand rubbing the back of your neck. Trying to ease your fear from Junko, you impulsively stuttered out an answer. 

"I-I…uh….I was looking for someone," you said to her and after hearing your words aloud you cursed at yourself. No matter how much time you spent behind the camera, your acting skills were no good. You couldn't act your way out of a wet paper bag. Hikaru's words, not yours. 

She stared at you blankly and though you wanted to run from the girl, you found yourself frozen to the ground. Fight or flight were no longer an option and you hoped that by staying still, Junko would leave you alone. But, then again that rule probably only applied to bear encounters. 

"Huh, then maybe I can give you a hand," she offered, "If you're looking for someone in my class, there could be something I could do." 

You felt your face get hot, mostly out of embarrassment for being caught stalking your brother. Quickly deciding to leave the situation, however before you can put that plan into action Junko continued to speak. "Your face looks similar to one of my classmates ....Are you related to Hikaru?" The question caught you off guard, unable to comprehend that Junko Enoshima knew you, someone that controlled things behind the curtains. In comparison to your brother, you weren't anyone famous. No one stuck around for the end credits to see your name. 

Nodding slowly, you answered, "That's right. I'm his older sister, [name]." There was a moment of silence before Junko broke out into a large grin, eyes wide with excitement and admiration.

"You mean [name] [surname]?! The Ultimate Film Director of Hope's Peak Academy?! The one who directed _World's End Switch_ and _Knuckle Sandwich_!" 

You smiled, your cheeks turning pink from Junko's acknowledgement. "That's me, but....uuuh I really should go—" 

"No way!" Junko protested, "I wanna talk more with you. Conversation is the spice of life as they say. Or was it something else? Anyways, it's not everyday you get to talk with a director. And you still haven't answered my question about why you're here." You inwardly grimaced, hoping that she would have forgotten about that already. You had thought that since she was a model, Junko would be more scatter-brained. 

"Oh, I get it...!" Junko said, eyes lighting up with realization. "You were waiting for Hikaru, weren't you?" Caught red-handed, your eyes widened in surprise over her deduction. Okay, so Junko Enoshima was smarter than she let on, you thought to yourself.

She winked victoriously as if it was just a game to her. "I knew it! Are you worried about him? That's adorable! I wish my scrub of a sister took some notes from you." 

"W-Well, I was a little worried. I haven't talked to him properly in a few weeks," you admitted, not knowing why you were saying this to a total stranger. Maybe it was because of her honest praise or maybe it was the growing anxiety over your brother. Maybe it was both. "I just want to know how he's doing is all." You focused your gaze on the floor, too uncomfortable with your confession. It was so stupidly childish and even saying it aloud made you feel gross. 

The Ultimate Fashionista turned her gaze downwards, stepping an inch closer to you. "I get it. You're worried about him because you've always been together, right? Your sibling love is awe-inspiring, [name]." 

"T-Thanks, I guess?" you said, your gratitude coming out more like a question than a statement. You had expected Junko Enoshima to be a more air-headed kind of character given her title, yet it was silly of you to assume her personality based on her talent. After all, in your first year, you had expected Teruteru to be an elegant chef with a passion for cooking. Not a fucking pervert that placed aphrodisiacs in your birthday cake last year. 

"Hmmm. I'm a sucker for sibling sap stories," Junko says to you, spinning a lock of her hair with a perfectly manicured hand. "And it might be in Hikaru's best interest to know how much of a good big sister you are." 

"Wh-What are you talking about? I'm not asking for your help...! You're—" 

"Just a total stranger," Junko cuts in and waves her hand dismissively as if shooing away a fly. "That might be true. Even so, I can tell how much you love your brother. This could be the start of the ever-so-tragic story of two siblings, close as children before becoming estranged as adults. But, life doesn't have to be like a movie. You have the power to change the ending. At least that's what I think." You stayed silent through her words, knowing that she was hitting the nail on the head. 

All your life was spent by Hikaru's side, watching his career grow, helping him practice, researching roles, and being with him through every audition. In turn, he helped you type manuscripts, revise story-lines, and judged every auditioner. It was a perfect relationship, one of constant companionship. A relationship built on polishing your mutual talents, movies, and a tight-knit loving family. 

To grow up without Hikaru was just too much to bear. 

"....I get your intentions," you begin, still very unnerved by Junko's words, "However....what's in it for you?"

Junko smirked, expecting the question. It was so boring, so normal that she could have cried over how bland your response was. "As I mentioned before, I'm a big fan of your movies, almost to the point of trying to create my own film. Except, I don't want it to be just _good_ , you see? I want to put my heart and soul in it." 

You squinted at her, trying to correctly process her request. Despite that, no matter how much brain power and thought you used, all that could come out of your mouth was an (un)intelligible, "Huh?" 

She placed her hands on her hips, pouting. She did not _like_ repeating herself. "Like! I! said!" Junko begins, emphasizing those three words with irritation. "I wanna try my hand at making a movie, something that'll totally move the masses. As a model, I always try on clothes that's been created. I never make anything on my own and frankly I'm a bit bored doing the same thing over and over again. This seems like a good chance to spread my wings. If I can make something on my own, then it would be a great achievement for the Ultimate Fashionista!" 

You weighed your options for a moment. The gears of your over-thinking brain, trying to examine this blonde enigma before you. She defied the characterization you made of her. Junko Enoshima wasn't the ditzy, shopping-addicted valley girl that you thought she was. In truth, she was much more than you expected. Every part of you wanted to reject your offer, yet the thought of growing up without your brother brought that uneasy sensation that tightened your chest. 

Was fear and anxiety making you insane? Probably. 

But, love was also a kind of insanity, wasn't it? 

Throwing away the last of your rationality, you gave Junko a firm glare, "Let's do it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> writing is hard lmao and thinking of plot is harder. i've done some thinking of how the rest of the 77th class would fall into despair, but at the end of the day, this is a story about the reader. I might make some inferences i got from the canon, fanfiction, and other theories and use them in this story, so stay tuned for that! i'll be noting changes that i make to canon as i go along to avoid spoilers for this fic as well! 
> 
> and thank you once again for reading, liking, and commenting on this fic, everyone!
> 
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	3. Hope Crusher

Right after school, you waited for Junko in Central Plaza. She had wanted to go to your dorm, which you had some reservations about. There was the lingering sense that Junko Enoshima was more than just a model. 

However, that feeling of unease was just grounded in your own perspective. There was no concrete proof that Junko was dangerous. No knife with blood, no smoking gun, no damning piece of evidence. She was just as presented herself: a normal high school girl and your brother’s classmate. 

You had to at least give her the benefit of the doubt. 

With those sentiments in mind, you pushed aside the matter of Junko Enoshima to the back of your mind. Now, you had to focus on whether or not to go through with your deal. Yet no matter how you tried to rationalize your actions, it all boiled down to an unknowable future without Hikaru. 

In the back of your mind, you knew it was inevitable. Every relationship was expected to be temporary.

Couples break up, friends drift apart, pets die, children leave their parents, siblings...just stop talking. 

Your chest clenched at the thought and your hand balled a fist of your blazer, hoping to stop the pain. The fear of having such a lonely future was enough to cease your breaths and you do nearly anything to stop this pain, this fear, these thoughts—

"Fuck!” you cursed, emotions bubbling over into a mini nuclear meltdown, “Oh, Ariana, we’re really in it now!" Against your will, against your heart, your brain hit the gas pedal of your thoughts, not speeding gradually, but readying yourself for a full-on collusion. 

Before your thoughts can hit that 100 mph speed limit, you felt a tap on your shoulder and you jolted on instinct. Swiftly turning around on the bench, you were face to face with the girl of the hour, a wide grin on her expression and flashing a peace sign at you.

“What’s up, girlfriend?!” she greeted you happily as if you weren’t on the verge of a breakdown and shouting nonsense. “How ya doin’? Ready to make some movies? What I have in mind is gonna dominate the charts, break the Internet, create a cult following, and piraters will be executed!” 

Thrown off-kilter from both Junko’s sudden appearance and her liveliness, you barely managed to compose yourself in time. If there was one thing you hated, it was being seen in any moment of weakness. If you were going to be a director, you had to at least _look_ put together. 

"I’m. I’m all good,” you say in response to Junko’s first question. You look past her and see a dark haired girl, eyes shifting up and down your form and taking in each and every little detail. You suppress a shiver. “Before, we go to my dorm...” Your gaze met the stranger, her gun-metal grey eyes met yours, causing you to release that shiver you tried to force down. It was like a cold knife was traced on your skin.

"Who's Winter Soldier over there?"

The girl was petite in stature, with short black hair and dark eyes, a constellation of freckles sprinkled across her nose. She held herself so rigidly that you could see the stranger as a stern and disciplined individual. If you had to describe her, she was like a...weapon rather than a person. She looked lethal, dangerous, and ready to kill at the snap of a finger. Or more accurately, a snap of Junko's finger.

Given how close she was to Junko, you could only assume she was a bodyguard or something. Do models have bodyguards? 

Junko barely glanced at the stranger before her face morphed into an expression of disgust and rolled her eyes. "Oh. That ugly little pig is my big sister. Give [name] an intro, little Miss Piggy. It's not often _someone_ gives you the time of day," Junko spat, giving her supposed "sister" a harsh glare.

The girl seemed to blush a little at Junko's verbal treatment. The sight of such a scary girl turning pink from sibling abuse nearly gave you whiplash. When you first saw her, you didn’t expect a closet masochist. 

_'Hm, that was surprising. It's always the quiet ones that are the freakiest.'_

She turned to you, expression turning steely once more. "My name is Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier, from the 78th batch," she greeted you.

Despite her cold impression, you still wanted to make the effort in your introductions. You of all people knew the importance of first impressions. "I see, so you must be Hikaru's classmate, too?" you inquired curiously and Mukuro gave a curt nod.

_'Well, shit. I'm not good with the strong, silent-types.'_

Undeterred by Mukuro's curt, all work and no play introduction, you gave her a friendly, welcoming smile. "I'm [name] [surname], the Ultimate Film Director from the 77th batch. Nice to meet you." You had expected a bow, or at least a nod from her yet your character analyses were not often wrong as Mukuro merely gave you that blank stare. 

Junko sighed in frustration, "Just ignore that side character, [name]. The only thing she's really good at is fighting. Everything from my sister's looks, character, smell, figure, to every one of hair follicles is way below average."

You watch as Mukuro’s expression changes again from neutrality into full-blown embarrassment as if being teased by a lover. Was she really the older sister?

"J-Junko! That's not true...right?" Mukuro asked, voice soft and worried, face with the faintest hint of pink. You could hardly see the vestiges of the imposing Ultimate Soldier from before. 

The Ultimate Fashionista stuck her tongue out, "Of course it is! Even that question is an example of your stupidity, big sis!"

Unable to take any more of the pointless conversation and Junko's harsh words, you cut in. "Right, right. I get it. Let's not waste any more time and head for my dorm, okay?"

Junko directed her attention towards you as if finally registering your existence. "Fine, my bad. Talking with my big sister puts me in a bad mood. Show us the way then, [name]."

* * *

If rooms and office spaces can reveal their owner’s personality, what does your dorm say about you? 

Messy in some aspects. Organized in others.

A bundle of thoughts and ideas that quickly faded just as they were born. 

Clothes were piled high on your bed and video equipment took over a corner of your room. Towards the back, there were twin monitors placed on a large desk, where you did most of your directing, editing, and writing. Around that desk were piles of notebooks and empty ink pens, used for jotting down ideas as they flowed out of you. Finally, you had a mini fridge installed since there were days at a time when you had to film for contests, a requirement in order to stay in Hope's Peak.

"And here is my humble abode," you said to them, arms gesturing to your home away from home. "Do you want some tea and snacks? You can have a seat on the bed...Ah." Noticing the pile of clothes on the bed, you quickly grabbed and shoved them into the back of your closet. "Sorry, I'm a bit of a scatter-brain."

Junko shook her head, refuting the idea, "No problem. You know what they say about artists being chaotic and stuff. I kinda expected this to be honest." With excited eyes, the blonde turned towards your video equipment, black metal and glass shining. "You're really dedicated to your art, huh?"

You let Junko and Mukuro explore your room as you booted up your computer. You quickly typed in your password and waited for your programs to warm up. And in that moment of respite where you were turned away from your guests, you heard a soft metallic clattering and the twist of artificial joints, an indication that your tripods were being moved.

Instinctively, you shift in your chair and see that Junko is messing around with your equipment. Her hands are on your first camera, the memento from your parents that pushed you into the person you are today. It no longer functioned correctly, but just having it brought you a modicum of comfort and nostalgia. 

So, seeing it in Junko’s hands almost sent you overboard, legs spring-locking as you leapt from your chair. You firmly took it away from her, trying to be careful with the precious device before inspecting it for potential damage. 

The way you tenderly put away the device was duly noted by Junko, who watched your movements like a cat eyeing a mouse. It didn't take a super genius to know how much _that_ specific video camera meant to you.

"Sorry,” you hastily apologized, though you don’t know what for. She was the one that was touching your stuff. Even so, it was too late and the apology floated in the air. Might as well roll with it. “Just...don’t touch my stuff.” 

Junko waved her hand in front of her face, dismissing your words with a friendly and easy-going smile. "Don't worry, don't worry! My bad. I tooootally get it. Designers are like that, too. It was really my fault for touching your tools. I don't want you to stop filming just because of my silly mistake. It would be a total waste of talent.” 

You feel your cheeks warm at her words. Hearing that your talent was precious wasn’t something you often heard. 

"Thank you, but um…before we proceed do you have any information on Hikaru? How he's doing in class? Is he getting along with everyone?" 

Junko's eager grin dropped, lips faintly turning downwards. A drop of a facade, her apathy showing through for a brief moment. And just as quickly, Junko’s beaming face returned. “Oh. That! I got the goods, of course!” she says before snapping her fingers. "Mukuro!" 

Called to attention, Mukuro's posture turned rigid and rushed over to Junko, placing a manila folder in her outstretched hand. And before you can even process what happened, the dark haired girl rushed back to a dark corner of your room, seemingly fading into the background until she was called again.

You really wished Mukuro would get out of the corner. It felt like she was a ghost and honestly, just creeped you out.

Junko handed you the folder, nearly shoving it into your face. "Here ya go! It was pretty easy to collect this information since we're classmates and all. I also added a flash-drive with Hikaru's likes and dislikes and other stuff. Cuz I’m considerate like that." Curiously, you opened the folder and you saw the photos and documents about, who you assume, to be your brother. And at the bottom was a black and white flash-drive. 

You smiled at Junko, more so out of instinctual politeness, "Thank you!...I still can't believe you actually did it.”

"Of course,” Junko replied, a smug smirk on her expression. “Sibling love is a thing to be treasured. A sister that would do anything to bridge the gap between her and her beloved younger brother. It's so... _beautiful_!"

While listening to her dramatic monologue, you just had to note the hesitation in Junko's last statement. _'Did she want to say something else?_ ' you wondered before pushing the inquiry to the back of your mind. This wasn't the time to be questioning Junko when you weren't very sure how to fulfill your end of the bargain. 

You opened up a blank document to type out whatever ideas came to mind.

"Thanks…So, um. What do you want to know about film-making, exactly? There's a lot to unpack."

Junko thought for a moment before leaning close to you, "Weellll...I want to make a movie that can give the audience a big 'ol punch. I want to push them off the edge of tears and into full-blown despair!" 

You quirked a brow at that strange request. It was strangely ambitious. Should Junko be that aspiring when directing wasn't her field of expertise?

 _'I know that students here are ambitious and determined. I shouldn’t be surprised that Junko is the same,'_ you mused. Nevertheless, you decided to humor Junko as she did fulfill her end of the deal.

"...I see. I guess it really depends on what genre you're aiming for, really. What kind of film do you want to make?" you asked with genuine curiosity, typing the word 'genre' as a way to start. If she was the Ultimate Fashionista, you would expect something like Legally Blonde or Mean Girls. However…

She defied your earlier expectations on your first meeting. She was sure to blow you out of the water with whatever she had to—

"A tragedy."

Junko's voice silenced your thoughts, a bomb that left no survivors. Stunned into silence, your head slowly turned towards Junko and you saw an expression that chilled you to the bone. The Ultimate Fashionista looked like a lucid nightmare, her blue eyes trained on your monitors with a blank expression on her face. It was like looking at a different person. Whereas the Junko Enoshima you encountered before was bright, quirky, and talkative, this one seemed entirely different.

Her expression was filled with an emotion you weren't quite familiar with.

Once more, you ignored the welling pool of anxiety in your stomach. You were probably overthinking things and besides, Junko was like the other Hope’s Peak students: unique, colorful, strange. 

"O-Okay..." you hesitantly yielded to her and typed it out. “For a tragedy, there's two types: one where the protagonist loses or dies or experiences a loss. But, there’s a hopeful en—”

"Blegh!" Junko gagged and you think that she’s going to vomit all over your desk. "Not that! Who gives a shit about that stuff? I want a film that’s wayyyy more _visceral_ than that happy-Kumbaya B.S.!!"

Despite being caught off guard, you rolled with it. If she hated happy endings, that was fine with you. To each their own.

"Then, you want a tragedy where the audience feels despair, huh? I don't mind that, but it's hard to do since you have to build an emotional connection between the characters and the audience," you explained to her. "Establishing that is the key."

‘ _More importantly_ ,’ you think to yourself. ‘ _A tragedy that kills off all hope...I can’t say that those types of films are my favorite. Way too edgy. Yet whatever Junko has in mind, it sounds a bit interesting._ ’ 

A hand waved itself in front of your face, causing you to snap out of your reverie. Junko stared back at you, blue eyes boring deep into your soul. She could practically see the first hints of despair on your face.

"What'cha thinkin' about over there, miss director?" she inquired. A pointless question that Junko knew the answer to you. Nonetheless she wanted to hear you say it. To say what you were feeling would ground it into reality, becoming an inescapable truth for her future plans.

Your head lifted, mind pulled out of your thoughts from the Ultimate Fashionista's voice. "...Oh, my bad. I was just thinking about...what kind of movie you were trying to film. I really don't understand what idea you have, to be honest. I mean, a film that brings nothing but sadness and despair? I’ve never heard of that…" Trailing off, you had to admit yourself the truth. 

"A film that causes the viewers to feel despair? That doesn't sound…boring," you admitted to her, eyes turned away. It felt like you were sharing a shameful secret. Despite that...

It. Just. Sounded. Interesting.

You never considered making a film meant to give the audience despair. As an entertainer, an author of film, you had been mostly concerned with pampering your audience. Your pride as a director wanted you to create a piece of art for yourself as well as others.

Whatever Junko had in mind really sparked your creativity, the possibilities of what could be. Common sense mattered little when you felt that urge to make, to create, to see this vision realized. 

Facing the Ultimate Fashionista with renewed vigor, you said eagerly, "I think that would be pretty fun in its own way!"

Lost in your own excitement over Junko's idea, you didn't notice the blonde smirk. Junko framed her index fingers and thumbs together, forming a makeshift camera that she focused on your face. Noticing this, you turned towards her, expression morphed by surprise and confusion.

"…Uuuuhhh, what are you doing?"

Junko stuck out her tongue from the corner of her lips, a playful gesture that left you stunned. "[name], have you ever thought about being _in front_ of the camera?" she inquired you, tone even and completely serious. You blinked, once then twice before your body went rigid in surprise, causing your chair to roll away slightly from Junko.

"N-Never! As my pride as a director, I could never put myself in front of the audience. It's my job to give stories a medium to be conveyed to the best of my abilities and I can only do that behind the scenes," you say to her before bringing your eyes to your lap, "Besides, in comparison to my brother… I don’t have the talent to be in the spotlight."

"Riiiiigght...though, you never tried it. Who decided that you don't have the ability to shine? If you stepped in front of the camera, you could discover a whole new world. A whole new level of entertainment for yourself and the viewers." Then, Junko casually shrugged her shoulders as if making an off-handed remark, yet unbeknownst to you it was so carefully sewn into her monologue. "Who knows? If you're on the other side of the camera, you could gain some understanding about Hikaru to repair your relationship. If that’s what you want, of course.." 

A chill went down your spine at her words, a tempting offer that echoed in your head. _'Another level of entertainment…understanding Hikaru,'_ you repeat to yourself. There was no doubt that Junko was smarter than she let on, so just maybe—just maybe—Junko was right. If you tried to see things from Hikaru's perspective and bridge the gap that grew over the years, there might be a chance that things could return to how you were before.

You swallowed the growing lump in your throat, lips shaking as you said to her, "You really think so?"

She smiled, teeth white and predatory. "I _know_ so."

* * *

It was a few hours later that Junko and Mukuro left your dorm, promising to come back to check your progress with Hikaru. As soon as you closed and locked your door, Junko sighed in relief, the mask she had so carefully worn coming off in a moment of respite.

"Jeez, what a loser," she said, sneering, "Her entire sibling relationship with the Ultimate Actor sounds like something out of a cheesy Disney series. You know that one about the twins in that hick town? God…" 

Even then, you still had your uses. When Junko had met you in that hallway, she could see how easily you would fall into despair, how useful and destructive you could be in the right settings.

If she could tweak you a little more, push you over the edge into that deep, dark abyss of despair…it would make spending time with you bearable.

Mukuro trailed after her sister like a shadow, steps light and quick as she spoke. "I don't really understand how a director is going to be useful to our plans, though, Junko. She doesn't even pose a danger against us…" Mukuro states, remembering how utterly pitiful you seemed. Going so low as to find any scraps of information to cling to your brother...on a deeper level, Mukuro could understand your motivations.

Junko's head snapped towards her, a disapproving frown on her face and hands on her hips, "Of course, she isn't! How can I say this for your _peabrain_ to understand..." Pausing to collect her thoughts, Junko finally opened her mouth, finding the right words to describe you.

"I don't need to do anything to her. She just needs a little push, a nudge, or whatever in the right direction," Junko answered, looking at her fake red nails glistening under the afternoon sun.

"She already has seeds of despair inside of her. And when things go according to plan, little miss voyeur can be of use.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	4. Born Lucky

"Even if you ask me to, I don't think—"

"Nagito, the best thing that you can do for me right now is kill my dreams. Be the final boss or the rational friend or _whatever._ If you could channel your energy from last year, that would be great too. Just. Do. It." 

Across the café table, Nagito sipped at his water, gauging your request. It was a stroke of good luck that you invited him out for lunch, but he was mentally bracing himself for whatever misfortunes were going to happen later. Despite his reluctance, Nagito was the only person that you believed would be of help in this situation. _Hopefully_.

(It wasn't because Sonia was hiding from Kazuichi! Or that Chiaki was gone for an e-sports tournament! Or that Mahiru was hanging out with Hiyoko and the others! It wasn't because of those reasons!)

Despite last year's incident, you decided to invite Nagito for a light lunch at the café. It was a horrible memory that made you cautious of the Ultimate Lucky Student. And against your desire to hate Nagito, there was a small part of yourself that personally liked him.

Not that you would ever admit it. You weren't sure how he would react if he knew that you thought of him as a friend (of sorts).

Besides, you like to think that you had a good grasp on his true character and that was your one defense against Nagito.

He was smart and conniving with a penchant for self-destruction.

The Ultimate Lucky student with a hard-on for hope.

And most of all, you think he didn't see you as a human. Similar to how you see other human beings as story characters, Nagito viewed you and your classmates as symbols of hope. Better than him, than a normal person. It was _because_ of that reason that you knew he could be objective and critical if you just asked him to.

When you still saw Nagito's apprehensive expression, you quickly resorted to your last card. The card you didn't want to play because of how _ecstatic_ he could be when you said it.

Mentally preparing yourself, you began to speak, trying to hit the right buttons of Nagito's personality. "This plan is made with the hope of repairing my relationship with my brother, you know? If you could point out my flaws and break my spirit, then my hope will only get stronger! I'll only be more determined to get along with Hikaru again…!" you say to him. And just like a dog with a bone in front of its face, you saw Nagito's face light up.

"I-Is that so, [name]?!" he asked you eagerly and you could practically see the stars in his eyes when you mentioned hope. "Right, you're right. You're completely right! The sibling you have for your brother is something that could give birth to an even more beautiful hope. The flower that blooms in adversity is the most rare and beautiful of all as they say."

You bite your lower lip. _'Wow, I kinda feel uncomfortable. And under ten minutes too. Nagito broke his record of how fast he could make me feel creeped out. I kinda wish I didn't bring hope into this conversation, And if he can quote Mulan, I think I'm going to regret my decision.'_

Your face twitched as Nagito gave you an dazed yet excited grin, "Well, then…allow me."

' _Fuck, here we go. I gotta strap in for the Nagito Komaeda roller-coaster, huh?'_

Despite Nagito's habit for saying nonsense, you still had faith in his words. When he did make sense, you found yourself completely stumped over how _right_ he was. So, you listened attentively, trying to commit his words to your memory.

"In essence, you basically paid one of Hikaru's classmates to give you information on his school life since he's actively avoiding you for reasons unknown," Nagito surmised. "Therefore, you made a deal with that said classmate of his. In exchange for information about your brother and advice on how to reconnect with him, you're teaching her how to make a film."

You nod. "That's the sitch."

"With the info that you got, you planned an outing with Hikaru during the weekend to visit the shopping district. You plan to ask him about his school life and work your way through whatever issue is bothering him. Even the folder you received has pieces of advice on what to talk about and how to act. However, one of the glaring problems with your plan is…"

Nagito gives you a quick apologetic glance as if it was a blasphemy to even think of what he was going to say. However, your steady and focused gaze spurred him on.

"No offense, [name], but are you confident in your ability to lie to your brother?"

Your body jolted as if struck with a bullet to the heart. Even if you knew it was true, just hearing it aloud hurt.

In spite of your relation with the Ultimate Actor, it didn't mean that you shared any of his talents. Anytime you even tried, your attempts just ended with you clowning on yourself.

Your composure wilted and you dramatically laid over the cafe table, trying to suppress the urge to cry. "L-Lying is no easy feat to the Ultimate Actor, you know?"

Pausing, you take a sip of your coffee and try to formulate what you wanted to say. It was difficult to speak your feelings into words, which was probably another reason why you sucked at acting. "I wasn't very confident that I could play the role that Hikaru wanted,” you said to Nagito after a moment. “If whoever I am now is the problem, then I can change for the better. I think.”

He tilted his head at that, "And what role _do_ you want to play?"

You paused at that, "I want to be the older sister that he looked up to before." Even to you, your words sounded vague and flimsy. Yet, there was no other way to say it. You had missed the times when you were a child, when the both of you were inseparable. It was a wonderful assuring feeling to have someone by your side.

Not even your classmates, who you could proudly call your friends, can replace Hikaru.

Nagito leaned back in his chair, mulling over your words. He certainly didn't understand your attachment to your brother as he had no siblings nor living relatives. However, Nagito chalked it up as the camaraderie between symbols of hope. _'I may not understand [name]'s relationship with Hikaru, but if this is the choice she wants, then what right does scum like have to stop her?'_

"You want to return to your previous relationship with Hikaru? A relationship based on the past…Is that your hope?" Nagito asked you with his signature casual smile. Under that kind façade of his, you felt that he could see your true character.

He could see the anxiety and the fear underneath.

You were starting to regret your decision to talk to Nagito now.

You shifted uncomfortably, knowing what the answer was deep inside. A future without Hikaru by your side, where he was off somewhere in the world with talent that outshined yours. And then a past where he clung to you, relied on you to guide him.

It was pretty obvious what you were going to choose.

"Of course. We're siblings…I can't. I can't imagine a future without him by my side," you admitted to Nagito, averting your gaze.. "So, that's why. No matter what, I'll do whatever I can to stay together…!" Nagito still had that same fake smile as you spoke, the same smile he gave towards everyone. You would have thought his expression was frozen into a permanent mask of contentment, but you noticed how his smile was just the tiniest bit smaller.

It made you feel sick.

He shifted in his seat, "…I see. Then, if that's your decision, how about I help you out?"

Now, _that_ caught you off guard. " _You_? Help _me_?"

It was like déjà vu. The memory of being sick in bed, Nagito's sincere offer to aid you, and your trust in him played and echoed in your head. Then the feverish hazy dream of reading the script he wrote, the sloppy way he handled your set, and the threat of near expulsion. It rushed to the surface of your mind, breaking through the waters and giving you a sudden reminder of what had happened in your first year at the academy.

The fast moving memories stirred up long past feelings of anger, boiling into an intense wave of heat that washed over you. Though, you had settled your grudge against him by having Akane and Nekomaru beat him up, remembering what happened was like reopening a wound, pulsating and angry at being disturbed.

Nagito stared at you quizzically, "Why? Is that strange?"

"No. Fuckin'. Way."

At your blunt rejection, you swore you could have seen Nagito pout. Now, that was even more unsettling than his usual smile. "Why is that?"

"I learned my lesson from last year. I'm not _that_ dumb. When I got a fever from the stress of practical exams, you offered to 'help me out," you pointedly said with air quotes for emphasis. " _Except_ , you wrecked my original storyline, fucked up production, and your nursing just made me feel worse! I had to stay up for nearly two weeks re-writing it before getting my short film production underway. If I hadn't figured you out by the end, I would have been expelled from the academy!" 

At your remembrances of your near-expulsion, you have Nagito an angry glare and he holds up his hands defensively in front of him, trying to placate you with an apologetic smile and easy-going laugh.

"Nevertheless, despite those trials, you passed your practical exam with flying colors! The judges were so impressed by your film, I think they would have let you skip future exams…!" he said, causing you to become more irritated.

"First off, fuck you. That wasn't the point," you cursed before turning a cold gaze at the Ultimate Luck Student. "And secondly, you better not sabotage me or I'll have Akane and Nekomaru beat your ass to the ground again..!" Unlike before, you were stern and resolute with your threat. Though Nagito was your classmate, you wouldn't hesitate.

_'I feel like a glutton for punishment, approaching Nagito like this. In spite of his craziness, he gives valid advice, sometimes. Man, why am I even friends with this guy?'_

At your words, Nagito's face turned even paler (if that was even possible). "O-Okay. Just anything, but that…"

* * *

According to Junko's documents, Hikaru spent most of his time with Chihiro Fujisaki and Mondo Owada, two other members of the 78th batch. Looking at it objectively, it was strange these three were a tight-knit group: an actor, a programmer, and a gang leader. One of the most unlikeliest combinations you could think of.

A thought struck you. _'Did Hikaru ever have friends when we were kids? I don't…quite remember. We either hung out with each other or with the film club members.'_

You frowned, _'I almost wish I can go back to those days.'_ You flipped to the next page, which held Hikaru's basic information. It didn't strike you as strange since Junko could have easily found this on a fan-blog. And scarily enough, those blogs were pretty accurate when it came to Hikaru's personal information. 

You skimmed over it, taking in the details.

_Accepted into Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Actor, dear Hikaru has relied on his sister for nearly everything. Except for his blossoming acting career! He was able to climb the ladder from small, minor roles in short films to popular movies, where he gained a mass following._

_With the aid of his older sister, [name], he was able to hone his skills as an actor, leading to larger roles. Soon, Hikaru's talent was officially recognized by Hope's Peak Academy as the Ultimate Actor. Despite Hikaru's great accomplishment, he struggles living by himself in the dorms! Maybe he would appreciate some advice and company during his down time, you know?_

Taking in Junko's words, you felt that she made sense and related to Hikaru's supposed troubles. Despite Hope's Peak offering optional dorming, many students often jumped at the chance to get away from home for the first time. Yet, you understood how difficult it was to really be on your own: saving money, balancing school work and fun, the high pressure environment of the school, and the loneliness of rooming by yourself ruined your high expectations of living on campus.

Even so, you managed to get through it with Sonia, Mahiru, and Chiaki.

It was plausible that Hikaru was feeling the same way.

With a feeling of determination and (dare you say it) hope, you immediately go to work on what kind of role you wanted to play for Hikaru.

* * *

The weekend rolled around so swiftly that you thought there was a time skip. Or maybe you were so excited to spend quality time with Hikaru that it made the days blur together. And it seemed that even the trip to your brother's dorm seemed almost instantaneous. Waiting for him outside the dorm building, you gave a quick call for him.

"Hey, little bro," you cheerfully greeted, "I'm right outside, so whenever you're ready, ya know?"

There was the ruffling of fabric, boxes and drawers being opened. Did he not unpack everything yet? "Go-Got it…! I'll be there in five," Hikaru informed through the phone, tone somewhat staticky and rushed.

It took him nearly an hour.

Well, you couldn't blame him. Hikaru was an actor and appearances were everything to him. He had to wash his face, put on his makeup and lotion, then pick out an outfit. You ignored the well of irritation. Because even if you picked your clothes the night before and woke up early to get ready, your brother's lack of consideration didn't make you upset at all!

Because you were his big sister and if Hikaru was having trouble with his school life, maybe that plagued his sleep schedule too! Your resolve only strengthened at the thought. ' _If that's the case, I have to do my best today! If I find out whatever's bothering Hikaru, then everything is gonna be alright!_ ' Slapping your cheeks, you psych yourself up, ignoring the feeling of a large, itchy mass forming in your stomach.

"Everything is gonna be okay."

If you said that enough times, you might actually believe it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i will also be writing some self-indulgent reader-inserts that connect to this main fic! it would be great if you give that a read, too~ (https://archiveofourown.org/works/26727733)
> 
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	5. Living Emotional Crutch

A short train ride later, you and Hikaru found yourself downtown shopping district. It was going to be a normal day where you ate lunch, shopped, then had dessert before heading back onto campus. But, like the control freak you are, you planned to squeeze out as much fun and bonding time in the few hours that you were out.

You would arrive downtown at 1:15 PM.

At 1:30 PM, you're going to have lunch at a sushi place you picked out.

An hour later, you expected to be shopping for at least two or three hours of pure bonding time.  As well as find new clothes.

And finally before you went back to campus, you and Hikaru were going to stop for either dinner or a light snack.

Either way, this day was going to be jam-packed with sibling bonding that Satsuki and Mei would be jealous of how close you were! 

Hopping off the train and onto the platform, you eagerly left the station and was greeted with fresh city-air. "Let's have lunch, Hikaru. I picked out this really great sushi—"

You were cut off by Hikaru's sudden gasp, his eyes focusing on something behind your shoulders. You turned around and followed his gaze…towards a shoe shop.

Before you can say anything, the Actor rushed over to the building and pressed his face near the window. He was eyeing…Heelys? They definitely looked like Heelys, though they seemed to be slippers rather than sneakers. You weren't really sure what you were looking at.

"W-What are those things?" 

Hikaru straightened himself, face proud over his find. "Can't you tell, sis? It's Roller Slippers," he explained as if that gave you all the answers.

"…The fuck is that?"

He pouted, "It's the next generation of footwear, duh! It's basically the hover-board of shoes. Why  _ walk  _ around your house when you can  _ roll  _ ?" Was—Was Hikaru always this stupid? 

"Right. I don’t mind you getting…ugly slippers, but uh…why do you want that?"

Hikaru grinned eagerly, pointing to the shoes as he explained to you. "Because! Mondo wanted this for his birthday. But, since it's so unpopular, the Rolling Slippers are difficult to find online and in stores," he said to you, face lax with deep thought. "I don't like to buy a present so early, but since these shoes are so rare, I dunno when I’ll ever find them again.

The way Hikaru's brow creased together told you he was seriously considering the prospect of buying the  ridiculous pair of slippers. 

It only took a moment as you forced yourself into the role you wanted to play. For the past few days, you had studied Junko's file, dissecting each word with the meticulousness of a surgeon. By now, you could read Hikaru's body language and facial expression, focusing in on the tiniest details like blood in the water.

"I think you should get it. If it's that difficult to find, then go for it," you say, trying to blend a perfect amount of cool and supportiveness. Hikaru paused, mulling over your advice. Thinking about it, your words made sense. When was he going to ever come across these  Heelys Roller Slippers again?!

"Alright, sounds good. I'll go buy it before we look around the shops."

* * *

As if you couldn't be further derailed, you spent the entire day shopping with Hikaru, who bought strange and miscellaneous things (how much hand lotion does he need?). On the other hand, you did buy enough clothes to rework your entire closet. You liked to think that even Junko Enoshima would be impressed with your fashion choices.

It was both a blessing and a curse that your parents let you have credit cards.

Though you spent an ample amount of time with Hikaru picking and discussing clothes, it didn't settle your overall goal of getting close to your brother. Was he really satisfied with this type of hangout? It didn't feel like the gap between you two was bridged, at all.

Settling down with your shopping bags in a nearby restaurant, your mind was on overdrive, deep-diving into itself to find a way to start a conversation with your  _ own  _ brother. Which, after thinking about it, was a little bit sad.

Hidden behind the restaurant menu, you took the moment to strategize. ' _ Uh…How should I talk to Hikaru? I prepared at least 200 topics to talk about, but I can't choose! I'm way too nervous  _ !' you thought, dizzy from how fast your brain was moving from one topic to the next.

You were so into your head that you barely heard Hikaru calling your name, "Big sis, what do you want for a drink?" Surprised, you turned your eyes to your sibling and then towards the expectant waiter, paper and pen at the ready.

"O-Oh, I'm sorry…Uhhh, can I have water with a lemon, please?" 

He nodded, writing your order down. "Right away, ma'am…!"

Once the waiter left, you and Hikaru were left alone, an awkward silence in the air. "Soooo…sis," the Actor starts somewhat awkwardly. "How were you for the past few weeks? I'm really sorry for not contacting you properly. School's been busy."

Sensing an opening in the conversation, you dove in.

"Right. I understand it! It was difficult to be away from Mom and Dad for the first time, huh?" you ask him.

He nodded slowly, "Uh-huh. Prioritizing my laundry, cleaning and studies is more difficult than I thought it would be. Though, I think some of my classmates are having the same trouble as me...I hope." You wait, trying to determine what you should say. Knowing your brother, if you shifted the conversation to his friends, there could be the chance to learn more about Hikaru's school life. There was also a chance to learn more about Junko and Mukuro. Any information was good information, you thought to yourself.

You dug through your mind for the names of Hikaru's friends, more specifically their talents. It would be a stupid thing to mention Chihiro and Mondo by name when your brother never mentioned them before. Using Junko's data gave you knowledge and insight, but using it was another thing altogether.

For the time being, you forced yourself into a character you carefully crafted.

You smiled at him. "Yeah, don't worry about it, bro! Even if you're like the Ultimate Scholar or whatever, it's hard for anyone to adjust living on their own. One of the things that can help you get through it is keeping making friends. Trust me, it really helps…!"

He jolts up in his seat, "Whoa! Speaking of friends, I haven't told you about my class, right? I think you already know one of them!"

You squinted. "I…do?"

"Yeah! She was a year below you in middle school and me and her were in different classes. Though, she's a nationally acclaimed pop idol—"

Instantly,  _ her  _ face flashed through your mind. "Oh! You mean, Sayaka Maizono?" 

"That's her!" Hikaru eagerly exclaimed, snapping his fingers. "She's also pretty close with this other guy that went to the same middle school as us. He's this year's Lucky Student, buuuut I don't think we knew him back then. Does the name ‘Makoto Naegi’ ring a bell?"

You shook your head. "Wow, so four students from Sixth Black Root Middle School made it to Hope's Peak. That's a helluva coincidence. Maybe that place is a goldmine for talent," you said in slight awe. Your brother laughed, a cheerful sound that you realized you haven't heard in a long time. It seemed that talking about his beloved class put Hikaru in a good mood, which in turn made you feel envious.

If you fished around for more information, there might be a reason as to why Hikaru was avoiding you. Figuring out your game plan, you barely registered the waiter, who brought your drinks and asked for your orders.

Hikaru said his order, something with chicken because you weren't paying attention. "Uh…I'll have spaghetti," you replied, not really caring about what you were going to eat. You just wanted to talk and reconnect with your brother, not eat. Besides, whatever this restaurant had to offer would pale in comparison to Teruteru's food.

The waiter nodded, smiling as he promised that your food would be out shortly. You studied Hikaru's expression quickly, who was still grinning at the topic of his class. "You mentioned a Mondo when you were looking at those Heelys—"

"Roller Slippers."

" _ Roller Slippers  _ ," you corrected through gritted teeth. "But, who’s this Mondo guy?"

There was a prideful gleam in your brother's eyes and you could tell that he was proud to call this Mondo person his friend. "Mondo Owada is the Ultimate Biker Gang Leader. You might have read some articles about him before! He's super cool and manly! You would expect him to be rough around the edges, but he's a really kind person. I admire him for that."

You ignored the pang of jealousy in your gut, twitching like an irritated small animal. It was a bitter reminder of your childhood days when you used to be close. Hikaru was your best friend, but to you he felt like a stranger—another character in a distant story.

"Huh, sounds like an interesting guy," you say dully, sipping at your water and putting Mondo Owada on your Hit List.

"Uh-huh, me and Chihiro are learning the secrets of how to be men! I think learning from Mondo can land more tough guy roles. Maybe one day, I can even play as a total badass like John McClane!" Hikaru eagerly exclaimed, gaze fixated on a distant hypothetical future. He really did like the Die Hard series, going so far as exclaiming it was mankind's greatest creation.

Another sting of envy made you reach for your water in an effort to keep your facial expression steady. The other person that Hikaru mentioned rang a bell in your mind. "Chihiro?” you repeated. “I think…my classmate mentioned them before. She was teaching Chiaki how to debug games," you explained to him. 

A week into the school year, Chiaki grew excited about the new batch of students after realizing that the Ultimate Programmer was attending. You only realized it just now after Chiaki met up with Chihiro yesterday after school. Apparently, she wanted to make her own games. However, she was stuck on the process.

"That's the girl," Hikaru affirmed with a sly wink (the one polished from years of practice because his agency wanted to sell his attractive face). "Chihiro Fujisaki's the Ultimate Programmer. I'm not very sure why she wants to learn from Mondo, though. She's hella smart, really cute and like…this ball of sunshine! I'm not sure about her reasons about wanting to be 'manly'."

You briefly debated putting Chihiro on your mental Hit List. However, you decided against it since she seemed to be Chiaki's friend as well.

"I see. I know that your class has a lot of well-known people. I remember reading that the heir to the Togami Corporation was there and a famous model," you say, trying to gain control of the conversation. Despite Junko's good deed, you were still weary of her—no, that wasn't the right word. To be precise, you were  _ curious  _ about Junko Enoshima. 

If you pretended to be interested in his class, you could reconnect with Hikaru  _ and  _ learn more about Junko Enoshima. You carefully calculated your next move, trying to find and make an opening in the discussion.

Hikaru took a drink of his water, frowning at the mention of one of his classmates. "Ugh Byakuya is a high key dick," he spats. "Though, I don't think he's all bad. Byakuya is more of a jerk with a heart of gold…” Hikaru trailed off, turning away from you briefly as he muttered under his breath, “Probably.” 

Returning his full attention to you, he continued, “The only ones that can tolerate him is Makoto. But, Makoto doesn't count. He's like a saint or something! And probably there's also Byakuya's stalk—friend? Uh…Toko Fukuwa. She really really _ really  _ likes him." He shuddered as if reliving a memory that still haunted him till this day. 

Not the direction you wanted the conversation to go towards…

From what Hikaru said, you could guess what kind of antics Toko Fukawa and Byakuya Togami engaged in. Without hesitation, you let the topic slide and try to shift the topic back to Junko, or even Mukuro. The Ultimate Fashionista struck you as odd, someone you couldn’t quite place. Which was why you couldn’t let Hikaru shift away from the topic of his classmates just yet. 

"Anyways, I mentioned before that there was a model in your class. The Hope's Peak Academy forums were saying that Junko Enoshima was going to your classmate. Some other directors were gushing about how beautiful she was and wanted to talk to her agency about becoming an actress, too."

Hikaru's countenance turned cheery, eager to talk about another member of his class. You guessed that Hikaru was just _ default  _ friendly towards everyone.

"Oh, Junko? She is pretty enough to be an actress!” he gushed. “I should have known that people wanted her to be in movies and stuff. She's really friendly and sociable with everyone."

Hikaru paused in thought before he finally remembered something. "That's right! Junko also has an older sister in our class. Her name is Mukuro Ikusaba, the Ultimate Soldier. Hella cool and stoic. Ya know she reminds me of the Winter Soldier, but 20 times scarier. You wouldn't think they're sisters if Junko didn't say anything. They're like...polar opposites!"

' _ …My thoughts exactly  _ ,' you mused, remembering how Mukuro just stood in your room, eyeing you and Junko.

Despite sharing similar opinions with Hikaru about the sisters, you still wanted new information about them. If you were going to continue consulting the Ultimate Fashionista, then having anything about her characters was going to be useful. The gears in your brain turned, trying to find a way to worm information on Junko all while reconnecting with Hikaru. All tuned up, you shifted back into an eager older sister wanting to get to know her younger brother.

You smiled brightly, "Wow, it's rare for siblings to attend Hope's Peak together. If I remembered correctly…I think Teruteru's siblings might be the Ultimate Male Escort and Female Escort next year."

Hikaru huffed, crossing his arms. "Uhhh, aren’t you forgetting the best brother and sister duo? It's me and you! Our talents are even complementary to each other, sis."

You laughed despite your calculated move. How could you ever forget your own flesh and blood? But, it was nice hearing Hikaru saying that, a friendly reminder to you and him that you were _ still  _ siblings,  _ still  _ connected no matter what happened. Ignoring your warm cheeks, you continued to steer the conversation.

"I still can't see the Ultimate Fashionista and the Ultimate Soldier as siblings. From their titles, they sound very different."

Hikaru stayed quiet for a moment, sensing something strange over your desire to keep talking about Junko and Mukuro. There were plenty of colorful students he could discuss yet you chose to talk about  _ them  _ , specifically. Before he could ponder more on the subject, the waiter was at your table, a food tray perfectly balanced on one hand.

"Sorry for the wait! For the miss, a spaghetti and meatballs," he said, setting down your food in front of you. "And for the young man chicken alfredo." 

He set down your respective plates and catching sight of your food, you felt your stomach rumble. The gurgling of your stomach reminded you of your last meal, which was just yesterday morning. You’ve been so nervous about today that you didn't eat. 

"Well," you began, eager to fill yourself. "Let's eat, bro. You're hungry, too right?"

Hikaru flushed pink, feeling his stomach twist with hunger. He was in such a rush this morning that he also forgot to eat. Sighing, the Actor admitted that as much as he wanted to be more independent there were still things he needed to work on.

"…Yeah." He smiled at you, letting himself indulge in this one moment of vulnerability. "Let's eat, big sis."

* * *

Returning to campus with the night air fresh in your lungs, you felt calm and confident. It's been a while since you last felt that. That everything was set in place because you were there to oversee it. Not a detail was out of place and you could foresee the future, the bright and shining future you built with Hikaru staying by your side.

On the train ride back to Hope's Peak, Hikaru promised to contact you more often. You could tell by the sincere tone in his voice and apologetic smile was enough to assure you that he meant it.

After dropping off Hikaru on the boy's side of the dorms, you almost skipped towards your own room and entered the familiar mess with a loud  _ plop  _ onto your bed.

The soft mattress cushioned your fall and after landing, you gave a quick text to your brother.

_ I just got in my dorm safely! Have a good night, baby bro <3 _

His reply was almost immediate.

_ Nice, good night sis  _ 🥱

Rolling to your side, you took a glance at the folder Junko gave you. Without her, you would have been too nervous to talk to your brother. And although you didn’t trust her, her information was solid. Hikaru's tone of voice, body language, and facial expressions were easy to read and all you had to do was act accordingly to the situation—

You blinked. _ 'Huh, was I…? Was I acting with Hikaru this entire day?'  _

The question was left unanswered, feeling unnerved over what answer you would arrive at.

  
  


**Notes for the Chapter:**

> finally, (one of) the points of no return   
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	6. Break The Cutie

"Did something good happen to you?"

Your head snapped in attention, returning to reality and the Princess in front of you.

"…huh?"

In front of your desk, Sonia tilted her head. "Well, you have the same smile as me whenever I discuss the latest serial killer documentary. And, even if we are discussing our Friday night horror movie plans, your mind seems to be somewhere else," she said.

You winced, feeling a tad guilty over not fully focusing on your discussion with Sonia. Blinking away the morning sleepiness, you turned your attention fully back to your friend. All you could remember was debating on watching  _ Texas Chainsaw Massacre _ or  _ 28 Days Later _ .

Along with Mikan and Hiyoko, it was a tradition for the four of you to get together and watch whatever horror movies caught your attention. If there wasn't, there were times when you just settled for watching serial killer documentaries. It was a nice way to do research and spend time with your beloved classmates, even if it was with gore and horror.

“S-Sorry, Sonia. What were you saying?” 

Sonia chuckled, "As I thought you're easy to read. So, what has occupied your mind as of late?"

You paused, briefly debating on whether to be personal with Sonia. It wasn't because you didn't trust her, but you were just naturally reserved about your own life. However, you took a page from Chiaki's book and decided to reveal just a small tidbit about your personal life. After all, you trusted your friends.

You leaned towards Sonia as if sharing a secret and she did the same.

" I'm just really happy. My brother and I had a really fun outing this weekend."

"Oh? Is that something you two don't do often?" Sonia asked, straightening herself out. "You gave me the impression that you were quite close with him."

You ignore the fact that Junko basically handed you Hikaru's information —because it felt good to know that you were bridging the gap.  ~~ Even if it wasn't through your own effort. ~~

"…We weeeerreeee," you replied awkwardly, back leaning into your chair and arms stretched languidly over your desk. "But ever since he entered Hope's Peak Academy, I think he's been ignoring me for some reason." The mystery of Hikaru's sudden avoidance of you was left unsolved. But, that doesn't matter!

As long as you can get along with your brother again, it didn’t matter to you.

An expression of shock and realization formed on her face, mouth slightly agape at the revealed information. "Oh? Your brother is an Ultimate as well! That's hella rad!" she said, using that hip language you taught her. Feeling a swell of pride, you continued to speak with Sonia, a silly grin plastered on your face.

"Yup, he's the Ultimate Actor. Hikaru is like the literal best in whatever role he chooses to play," you brag to her, arms crossed over your chest. Hikaru’s accomplishments were yours and your accomplishments were his. It was how your sibling relationship worked, after all! 

"It wasn't anything special, the outing I mean. We just ate and shopped and talked..! Man, Sonia, we were like actually _ conversing  _ and he told me stuff about his school life!" A warm feeling spread through your chest, causing a giddy smile to form on your face. You were glad that your brother was getting along with his classmates, yet…it hardly mattered.

The space between you two shrunk, if only just slightly.

"It was really fun…"

Sensing your innate happiness, the silly smile you couldn't keep off your face was contagious as it spread to Sonia., She was truly happy for you. What friend wouldn't be? You've been depressed for the past few weeks, and it was nice to see you radiating your usual energy. Her gaze softened and she felt her cheeks warm from your infectious happiness.

"I'm glad for you. Really."

* * *

"Annnnddd then Fuyuhiko has a research period with Mondo from the 78th batch."

"Yup. Finally, Ibuki and Sayaka have to do research next."

You wrote the last of the few research reports for the student council, pen rapidly finishing your last sentence with a dramatic flourish. The usually lively classroom was empty, only occupied by you and Chiaki as the others had gone off to eat lunch. However, you had promised to help Chiaki with the research reports for the student council before giving it to them after school. It was a boring job, but someone had to do it.

Last year, you couldn't imagine the Ultimate Gamer taking the role of the class representative. When Chisa Yukizome forced her way into your lives, she appointed Chiaki as class 77-B's representative, believing that the role would have given the Ultimate Gamer a chance to socialize. Despite your hesitation on appointing such a quiet girl to the position (wouldn't you, Mahiru, or Sonia been a better option?), Chiaki closely knitted the class together.

You could barely recognize the girl from last year with the reliable representative in front of you.

She sighed in relief, the burden of paperwork lifting off her small shoulders. Chiaki smiled at you in gratitude, straightening the bundle of reports before stapling them together. "Thanks for helping me out. Ever since the 78th batch arrived, things have been busy with the researchers," she said with a slight frown.

You could understand Chiaki's feelings towards Hope's Peak's talent based system. It was blatantly obvious when the Reserve Course was introduced to the school, how they were treated as nothing more than a source of revenue . There was also an unspoken rule by the researchers that the Main Course students shouldn't interact with the Reserve Course. Something about stunting talent or whatever — Well, not that it had anything to do with you.

You didn't look down on the Reserve Course nor did you care about them. It was just a…strong feeling of indifference.

However, you didn't dare say that to Chiaki. There were just some things that weren't meant to be said.

Putting on a sympathetic smile, you say to her, "Yeah, I get it.” You wanted to drop the subject, finding the topic of the Reserve Course uninteresting. However, it seemed that this topic was important to Chiaki. For the sake of maintaining your friendship with the girl, you tried to bring the discussion to a close. There was a new found confidence in the way you spent time with Hikaru the other day, the conversation that flowed so easily when you could direct it.

"I think it's wonderful you think that way, though," you added for good measure. "There's not a lot of people who can say that."

Chiaki nodded slowly before her pink irises lighting up with remembrance. "Oh! I almost forgot!" she exclaimed, slinging off her backpack to dig inside. She pulled out a square shaped container decorated with a detective-like character on the front cover, framed by two women. It looked like a fun game, something filled with mystery and intrigue that lured you in.

"Speaking of the Reserve Course," Chiaki starts, giving you a clear view of the video game. "I have a friend there and I was going to meet him today to give him this video game he wanted to try out." You could tell where this was going from a mile away.

"But, since I have to give this to the student council, I won't be able to…"

There it was: the implied request.

"And do you want me to deliver this  _ said _ game to this  _ said _ student?" you smirked teasingly and Chiaki gave you an earnest nod.

"Right. You met him last year when Ms. Yukizome was dragging us back to class, remember?"

"Nope, not at all."

Chiaki huffed, cheeks adorably puffing out. She looked like an angry chipmunk, but you pushed the thought aside. When it came to her friends, Chiaki was fiercely loyal.

"C'mon," you say to her, "It was a big day and a lot of things happened. I can't remember one guy that I happened to run into last year." That seemed to calm her down somewhat, her shoulders drooping slightly. It made sense once she thought about it. Freshman year was a whirlwind of memories and your meeting with Chiaki's friends was buried beneath, a forgettable blip in your life.

"…I guess you're right," Chiaki admits. "Anyways, do you think you can give this to him for me today? We usually meet at the courtyard near the entrance of the school, right between the west and south parts of campus."

In truth, you didn't really want to. Whenever you caught sight of the prison-like school building of the Reserve Course, you could only wonder what the students were like. Even from a distance, you could tell that the Reserve Course was a cesspool of negativity and elitism. Just thinking about it made you uncomfortable. 

Putting aside your feelings towards the Reserve Course, you couldn’t say no to Chiaki since you were actually free after school. No research. No hangouts with Sonia nor Mahiru. And you haven't seen Junko for the last few days. Just before she left your dorms, she exchanged numbers with you and hasn’t contacted you since. Which was too bad. You wanted to thank her for her advice.

Not wanting to disappoint a friend, you gave her a casual shrug, "Sure."

She gives you the video game and you place it inside your own bag, which was hanging from your chair. Before you can invite Chiaki out for a quick lunch before class starts, she looks up at you. 

"Ah, by the way, the person you're meeting…his name is Hajime Hinata."

* * *

Fitting for a nationally acclaimed school, Hope's Peak Academy had the facilities to back it up.

As a whole, the academy was the size of four regular high schools and in the rough shape of a diamond. The campus was then divided into four sections: The south was for student dormitories. The west was for the Main Course students. The north was the old school building. And the east was for the Reserve Course.

Scattered through the academy were various courtyards, idyllic in both appearance and aura. It was the perfect place for privacy since it went against Hope's Peak's rule of separating the students.

Waiting at the bench, you merely looked down at your social media, scrolling through Junko's social media feed. There was nothing to indicate what kind of character she truly was, nothing that showed what kind of person she hid underneath layers of foundation. One part of you wanted to find some meaningful way to thank her for her help. And the other just wanted to find out who she really was, the thrill of the mystery driving you.

Just as you saw another one of Junko's sponsorships (something about diet pills you were pretty sure were faulty), you heard the soft sound of footsteps slowly approaching. Automatic, you locked your phone and tuck it away, head turning up from your lap to see the visitor.

You…didn't think such an average guy existed. Yet here he was.

Hajime Hinata in every sense of the word was completely…normal. Donning the prim and proper Reserve Course uniform, he looked more like a businessman than a student. If it wasn't for the school bag slung over his shoulders, you would have guessed he was a salaryman or something.

Of average height, skin-tone, and…you're going to assume even his interests and personality were normal.

You didn't expect anything less. Even so you were disappointed when you were right.

The only thing interesting about him was his antenna, which stood out at a sharp angle. 

_ 'If I touch his antenna will it stab me through the hand?' _

Biting the inside of your cheek, you stood up and gave him a friendly smile. "Yo, you must be Chiaki's friend? Hajime Hinata?" you ask him. It was polite, but you already knew he was the person you were looking for. Why else would he approach you in this particular courtyard?

He stared at you, green eyes widening lighting up with what looked to be recognition. A moment of silence occurred before you tilted your head in confusion. Was he starstruck or something? You weren't widely recognized in comparison to Hikaru, but you did have a few fans here and there. 

"You okay there?" you ask him in concern.

He vigorously shook his head. "N-No, it's nothing. Anyways, that's right, I'm Hajime Hinata. You must be the Ultimate Film Director, right?" 

Hajime took a step closer to you, allowing you to investigate his reactions a bit more. The memory of your happy outing with Hikaru was fresh in your mind, making you confident. If somewhat arrogant.

On a movie set, you were in control of everyone and everything, you intimately knew the people you were working with. Talking with Hajime, who just oozed mediocrity, seemed like a simple test of your conversation skills.

"That's correct. I'm [name] [surname], Ultimate Film Director from the 77th batch," you introduced yourself in an almost robotic fashion. The researchers had drilled that greeting into you as a freshman when you failed to introduce yourself properly. It took a few weeks for you to understand, but it was completely clear to what they thought of you: Your talent  _ is  _ your identity.

Hajime forced out a small, forced smile. "Yeah, I know. I'm a big fan of your short-films. Um…and we also kinda met last year."

"Last year?" you raised a brow before recalling your friend's words. "Chiaki told me about this…Was it when our crazy homeroom teacher was gathering all of us to get to class?"

He laughed at that, a quiet chuckle that didn't seem forced. "That's right. If I remember correctly you...ran into me and Chiaki. On a stolen janitorial cart and Chiaki told me you crashed it," Hajime explained, causing you to cringe. "W-Was that real?" 

Thrown off-kilter from the sudden reminder, you felt a flash of hot embarrassment run through you. You had prepared yourself to be so composed, so in control, and that  _ one memory _ just fucked everything up.

Everyone always wanted to forget their high school lives, you wanted to forget your freshman year.

"L-Listen, wipe that memory from your mind!" you commanded, lips quivering and cheeks turning pink. Despite your attempt to sound authoritative, you looked like you were about to cry. You pulled at your hair, the old memory breaking through the surface. "Ugh!! Cuz of that incident, I've been completely banned from operating any type of vehicle on campus! Even bikes!"

.

.

.

If the time ever came to it, Hajime would just stay out of your way if you were in the driver's seat.

"I-I see…"

"Besides, I had a good reason for trying to leave that day," you say through a wave of embarrassment, desperately trying to keep your composure. If you were going to crash and burn, you were going to crash and burn with  _ some _ dignity.

"I was making that short film. You know the one that hit the Internet last summer?  _ Baker's Dozen _ ? It was about a group of assassins that race against a team of spies around the world."

His eyes lit up with recognition, "You made that film?!"

The light of admiration…now that was the expression you wanted to see.

You smirked, some pleased to see the shine of appreciation in Hajime's eyes. It did little to recover your ego, but it was a start. A wide smug smile formed on your face, chest puffing out in pride.

"Of course! Can you imagine a movie of that caliber  _ not _ being from the Ultimate Film Director?!"

Hajime forced out an awkward laugh, lips turned upwards in an uncomfortable expression. A cross between a polite smile and a cringe.

However, your confidence was…enviable. You were born with a talent, a skill, a gift, that made you recognized by others. To be praised and expected from —to have a bright glittering fulfilling future guaranteed from the academy. You had a reason to be proud of yourself, to stand tall with other talented teenagers. All because of your natural talent, talent, talent, talent.

Everything circled back to talent _. _

If Hajime had a talent, then he was sure— _ absolutely certain _ —that he could be confident. Just like you and Chiaki.

And not like the Reserve Course.

Something heavy formed in Hajime's stomach, so deep that it settled in his gut. He bit his lip. "You’re...really confident in yourself, huh? Is that what it means to be an Ultimate?” 

Your brows scrunched together, smirk dropping. 

_ Confident _ ?  _ You _ ? 

You wanted to burst out laughing, roll on the ground and lose yourself in the hilarity of Hajime’s comment.

A lump formed in your throat and the back of your head buzzed, a slow hum that steadily grew louder and louder, spinning, vibrating against your skull.

Despite the increasing noise, a single question echoed through your head:  _ without talent, who are you? _

Besides directing, you weren’t great at anything else. A movie set was your home-turf, where you called the shots on everyone and everything. In reality, you were just a teenage girl with no control over anything.

But, Hajime didn’t know that. And you weren’t going to let him. Because you’d rather die than let him see any vulnerability from you.

You could find no answer to that singular question in your head, and you were just left with that buzzing in your head and rising bile in your throat, panic and confusion and uncertainty racing through your veins. It felt like your control was slipping, falling through your fingers like sand—you clenched your fist.

You hated this conversation, you hated thinking like this, you hated doubting yourself. 

Damage control was first. Suppress your anxiety and fear, don't let it show, formulate a response, take the reigns of this conversation—quick before Hajime noticed!

The lines formed clearly in your head, and you let your voice say them. No emotion behind your words, just intent on ending the conversation for your sake.

"Of course, I’m confident," you lied, voice steady despite your guts churning like choppy waves. "I’m a student at Hope’s Peak. And so are you, Hajime. Stand a little taller..." Your words sounded assuring and kind yet there was a hollowness to them. No substance. No feeling. 

You spare Hajime a deliberate glance, eyes locking together with his. "And have a little confidence in yourself.” 

Hajime stayed silent, fingers gripping the nylon of his bag tighter. He ripped his gaze away from yours, too weak to withstand your steely stare. .

"...Yeah, alright.” 

* * *

You quickly left Hajime, after that. A rushed goodbye and nearly shoving Chiaki's game into his hands, he watched as you walked to the dorms.

Hajime sat on the bench, back leaning against the warm wood and face aimed towards the orange sky dotted with sparse clouds. The quiet, the warmth, the scenery.

It was so idyllic it almost felt fake. 

Everything was at peace, mocking his turmoil of emotions. It felt like a sick joke, so sickening Hajime just wanted everything and everyone to shatter. Why does the world look so perfect, so calm and he had to feel this way?

Were his problems really that small?

Hajime sighed, "Of course. Compared to the world, to the Ultimates, my worries don't mean a thing."

His eyes instinctively went towards the Main Course building in the east. It stood proudly in the setting sun, the pinnacle of a hopeful future, where the students were guaranteed success, confident in who they  _ were. _

Everyone in the Main Course was just so proud of themselves. 

It was so unlike the Reserve Course and his classmates in his old school. He didn’t belong with them.

Hajime belonged in the Main Course, he just knew it.

He dug through his bag and pulled out a black folder with the school's logo embossed in white. Carefully, he opened the folder, reading the project name printed out in bold, black letters.

_ The I _ _ zuru Kamukura Project _

__

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	7. Blatant Lies

_Hey there, little miss Director, let's meet up after school!_

_Tell me what happened during your lunch date with your brother_ 👀

Staring at the message with narrowed eyes, you tried to wrap your head on how Junko got your number. But, the more you thought about it, the more your head started to hurt. She really was more than meets the eye.

The Ultimate Fashionista didn't set off warning bells in your head yet your interest with her sparked. Who was Junko Enoshima? Was she really as genuine as the magazines claimed her to be? Brushing aside your conflicting feelings towards the girl, you wondered what you could possibly teach her about film-making.

There was a lot of ground to cover and you weren't very sure Junko had the skills to pull it off.

You sighed to yourself, _'In the end, I didn't find any way to thank Junko for her information. Maybe, I should just do my best in teaching her to make a film. That was part of the deal, after all_.'

Giving a quick reply to Junko, you quickly tucked your phone back into your bag and turned towards the window in thought. ' _I wonder what we're going to talk about tod_ _—_ '

"Hey, [name], do you happen to know where Miss Sonia is?"

Even without turning around, there was only person in the class that constantly asked you the same question. You made a face in the window.

"Ya know, me and Sonia aren't attached to the hip," you said to him. "That's Gundam."

Kazuichi Soda, the Ultimate ~~Simp~~ Mechanic, was head-over-heels in love with Sonia Nevermind. Or so, he said. The year you spent with him made it clear that his feelings weren't love. It was a gross and shallow infatuation.

Though, could you really call it infatuation if his crush lasted for over a year?

And due to your close relationship with the Princess, Kazuichi always bugged you about Sonia. It was clear that she didn't care for the Mechanic's advances, so you took the extra mile to make sure he stayed away from her.

Nothing against Kazuichi, but he just _would not_ take the hint.

He scowled at your comment. "That guy…Just what does Miss Sonia see in him?" Honestly, you didn’t know either. Gundam was alright, a bit strange and you could barely understand what he was saying half the time. Yet, you felt that he wasn't as bad as he claimed to be.

Maybe Sonia liked that about him. 

"Anyways," you started, stringing together a lie for Kazuichi. It made you feel guilty, but it had to be done. "Check the library. I think I heard something about Sonia and Gundam studying together about ancient Babylonian rituals." The lie slipped from your mouth so casually, so seamlessly that you almost thought it to be the truth.

Though you were horrible at lying and acting, if it was for the sake of your friend, it was easy.

Kazuichi grinned, sharp teeth gleaming in the sunlight. There was a glimmer of hope in his eyes, causing your lips to quiver. It made you feel guilty to get his hopes up, however, you didn't have a choice. He just _wouldn't_ give up. 

If Kazuichi kept that up, he was in for nothing but heartbreak. You wished you could tell him that, but was there an easy way to tell someone to give up their crush?

"Thanks, [name]! Man, I need to really thank you one of these days!" he laughed, already leaving the classroom for the library.

You forced a smile, trying to suppress the cringe you felt. _'Seriously, Kazuichi, you're gonna get heartbroken.'_

* * *

"Goooood afternoon, Director!"

You flinched, heart jumping into your throat as a high-pitched voice rang against your eardrums, it was the unmistakable voice of Junko Enoshima. She walked up the stairs, sneaking up on you as you stood in front of your dorm room. Junko grinned widely, flashing a peace-sign at you.

"Did I scare you?" she laughed. "Sorry, sorry. It was just such an good chance to do a jump-scare that I had to do it." Ignoring the fact that your heart-rate wasn't settling down, you easily forgave Junko with a shy smile.

"I-It's alright, I guess." You looked around, even the dark corner of the dorm building. However, Mukuro was nowhere to be found. "Where's Mukuro?" you asked her. "I thought she stuck to you like glue."

At the mention of her sister, you saw Junko's expression fall. "Really?" she scoffed, hands on her hips. "We're not like that at all. You know, when we were little, Mukuro fucked off to Europe and joined a mercenary group. Didn't come back for three whole years."

You blinked.

' _Three years, huh? Being away from your sibling for that long sounds like Hell,_ ' you thought to yourself.

"Anyways," Junko began, shifting the conversation. "Mukuro had some research to do today. So, she won't be joining us."

That seemed plausible. Research period in Hope's Peak was non-negotiable unless it was a dire emergency.

You nodded. "Okie dokie, then let's head in." Unlocking your door, you entered first, went towards your computer, and sat down comfortably. Booting up the device, you spun in your chair to face Junko.

"Do you some snacks or drinks?" you asked her, more out of politeness than anything. She shook her head. 

"I'm all good, thanks." The Fashionista glanced at your bed, giving you a questioning look. "Is it okay if I took a seat on your bed? It's kinda tiring walking around campus in heels."

"Then, why wear them?"

"As the Ultimate Fashionista, you sacrifice everything for the aesthetic."

Good thing you were a pragmatist.

Junko took a seat on your bed, leg folded over the other. She looked so casual, so at ease in your dorm rooms. It almost made you think you were friends rather than acquaintances. She looked at you with mischievous blue eyes.

"Sooo, how was your date with Hikaru?" she teased with a light smirk. Your cringed.

"Gross. It wasn't like that," you interjected, turning away from Junko to log into your PC.

She cackled, a sound as boisterous as her appearance. "Relax, I was just kidding! No way would I ever consider something that disgusting." Junko didn't like she was joking.

Putting the thought aside, you turned towards Junko as your computer booted up. "The outing with Hikaru went well. We just did normal stuff, eating and shopping together," you explained. The memory of your conversation with him made you smile. "I think we really bonded back then."

The warm sensation feeling spread through your chest, a happy grin forming on your face.

For a fraction of a second, Junko's expression darkened. That hopeful expression on your face was so perfect, just asking for despair. It was practically an invitation to her. Yet, Junko restrained herself. Splendid, top-grade, quality despair didn't grow over night.

But, it wasn't like Junko to waste an opportunity.

"Is that so?" Junko inquired, casually. "I didn't hear Hikaru say anything about it." It wasn't a lie, at least. Hikaru never mentioned his outing with you, however he seemed to be happier than normal during class. It was obvious that he had a good time.

As if you needed to know that.

Your expression fell. "W-What? I thought we had a good time together…" you murmured forlornly. "I even followed your advice so closely." The details were crisp and clear, dictating how you directed the conversation. It was so flawless that you thought the gap between you and Hikaru was bridged, if only slightly.

Maybe…you read the situation wrong.

It wouldn't be the first time you misread a person, even your brother. 

Besides, Junko seemed so confident, so…maybe she was right? 

Resisting the urge to cry, you asked her, "…I-Is that re-really the case? Then…" You trailed off, swallowing the growing lump in your throat. "I don't really know what to do then. I thought I did everything right and he was acting normally, too. Maybe I should just talk to him directly. If I just confront him about it—" 

"No, no," Junko waved off. "No offense, [name], but you can't talk to Hikaru about this when you don't understand his feelings at all."

"W-What?"

It didn't take long for Junko to analyze the situation, you weren't a puzzle. Despite your Ultimate Title, you were quite…insecure. The constant need for control and the overthinking were evidence enough to what kind of person you were.

' _How boring…_ ' Junko thought, fighting the urge to sneer. It was so despairingly boring to keep talking to you like this. But, if it had to be done, then she had no choice.

Crossing her arms languidly, Junko said, "I mean, can you _reeeeeaaally_ reach an understanding with Hikaru if you're not empathizing with him? What I'm suggesting to him is to put yourself in his shoes."

You raised a brow at that. Putting yourself in his shoes? Was Junko implying that you didn't understand your sibling? That wasn't possible, Hikaru was someone you grew up with! You knew him like the back of your hand and the same applied to him—right?

Your guts twisted. "…What do you mean by that?" you whispered, tone raspy from your churning emotions.

She smiled under the dim lighting of your dorm. It didn't quite reach her eyes and if you bothered to look closer, you would have noted that there was a hint of malice underneath her upturned lips. "Hikaru, by nature, is an actor. He has the confidence and talent to stand in front of a camera to connect with the audience. Why don't you try to be like that?"

Confusion tinged your thoughts and Junko could see that you didn't understand her words.

She twirled a strand of her blonde hair, "What I mean is…to change yourself a little bit. When you're on a movie set, what do you feel?"

The question hung in the air. You thought for a moment, between the version of you in a movie set. And then the you in general life.

The contrast was like day and night: on a production set, you were absolute, every little detail was planned according to you, nothing was out of your control. When you made a film, you were confident in every decision you made, you knew the people you worked with. Every action, every role was directed by you and everything went to your expectations, nothing could surprise, derail, hurt, or scare you. And without you, there would be nothing.

It was such a stark contrast between your daily life, where it seemed that you didn't even know your own sibling anymore. You get nervous about things out of your control, thoughts of a future without Hikaru by your side able to freeze you in place.

"I dunno," you muttered to her, not wanting to admit the answer aloud.

"You don’t know?" Junko repeated with a raised brow, clearly not buying into your lie. Her blue eyes bore into your form, which shrunk into your chair, wanting to disappear. You were behaving like a child refusing their medicine. And with Junko's pressuring stare, urging you to say it.

You bite your lip, almost breaking the skin. "…confident," you muttered.

"Exactly!" the Fashionista exclaimed excitedly, clapping her hands together. "Hikaru is a confident guy, no doubt. He's sociable, popular—basically the star of the show!" She giggled at her wording yet your lips were pursed into a tight frown.

"Soooo, try being on his level," Junko finished. "Use that confidence in the movie set and channel it into your daily life." She gave you a meaningful glance.

"You have a great talent: leading people, writing a script, and super creative!" Junko added. "I believe that you can emphasize with Hikaru. If you're having trouble, try thinking of your outing with him and hone your skills. Practice makes perfect as they say."

You felt your cheeks warm in response to Junko's words. It was a nice stroke to your ego, especially after your conversation with Hajime. Surprisingly, talking with the Reserve Course Student left you more shaken than you originally thought. But, Junko's words brought a strange sense of comfort to you.

And Junko's explanation…did make sense. Your talent was the root of most of your self-esteem. But, nonetheless you still had confidence. If just funneled whatever you had into other areas of your life, maybe you had some hope.

"Alright, so practice—what my conversation skills or something?"

Junko paused, running as many scenarios as she could for you. If she was going to use you, you would need to be a little cutthroat. It seemed to be easy enough, but put into practice it was slower than she anticipated.

"Well, yeah. That's one way to improve. But, ya know how you direct your production crew through the movie-making process? Try applying that to your classmates and then Hikaru."

It made sense. She was basically just telling you to be in confident in other areas of your life, channel the power and control you felt while directing into something else. You think that you could manage that. It sounded more like Junko was giving encouragement. But, it couldn't be, right?

—Could you count Junko Enoshima as a friend?

' _T-That can't be right_ ,' you concluded. ' _She's just fulfilling her end of the deal._ '

Despite this, you felt that you could trust the Fashionista's words since she said them so sincerely. You had no reason to distrust the girl, either. Especially when she went above and beyond the other day with providing you information about Hikaru's school life. _'Oh, I nearly forgot!_ ' you remembered. ' _I…still haven't taught anything about movie-making_.'

Deciding to change the subject, you said, "Okay, I’ll give your suggestion a try."

Under the dim light of your room, Junko's lips gave way to a vicious smile. "Hope it all goes well, [name]."

As the conversation died down, you decided to shift the topic. "Thanks, Junko. For today and your advice the other day. I really owe you one," you smiled.

"No problem, girlfriend! You're a good person," she said to you. "And a good sister. So, I thought I would lend you a hand."

You grinned, "Haha…no need for the flattery. Anyways, what do you want to learn about movie-making? I'm still not very clear on what kind of film you want to make?"

Junko paused in thought as she gave a casual shrug. "I gave it some thought and I really do like to do a tragedy. But, I'm having trouble with making it…What's the word?" She hummed, trying to find the adjective.

"Life-changing? Problematic? Controversial?"

You understood the gist of what she was saying. But, even so, it was still pretty broad.

"Do you mean 'influential'? " you asked her. Junko snapped her fingers together.

"That's right! I was thinking of something totally horrific like _Psycho_ , _Friday The 13th_ , _Nightmare On Elm Street_. Something that could change the industry!"

You stared at her in suspicion. "You're really ambitious."

"Of course! Aren't Ultimates usually full of drive?" Junko joked. "You're the same, right [name]? That's another reason that I wanted to help you out with Hikaru."

You turned away from her, unable to take the girl's heartfelt praise. "…I see. However," you started, eager to forget her words and control your embarrassment. "No offense, but you're the Ultimate Fashionista. Could you even create a movie like that?"

"What's that mean?"

"What I mean is that your talent applies in fashion. Not directing." A thought crossed your mind, causing you to snort. "Unless you're talking about brainwashing," you added sarcastically.

Junko cocked her head curiously, blue eyes blank and wide. "Why not?" Your breath hitched in your throat, brows furrowing together into an expression of concern. 

"'Why not'?" you parroted her, disbelief seeping into your tone. "Even if it was possible, it's boring and lazy-writing, frankly. Not to mention the ethical and moral issues."

You were correct. Yet, brainwashing was convenient, Junko mused. She filed it away for another time, another day.

"Right, right," Junko stuck her tongue out. "I was just joking. But, you never know. Technology evolved so much that it's possible."

_'What a scary thought.'_

"…Maybe. Rather than talking about theories, it's better to focus on what can be done," you said firmly. "If you're aiming that high, mindless violence is kind of distasteful. It has to mean something. Or least seem to mean something."

"I see," Junko said. "I get it. What I had in mind was going to be philosophical and deep—like how society is totally hopeless, yearning for mindless meaningless violence! Doesn't that sound totally grand?!" It was unsettling how she thought of that, but it was still brilliant.

"W-Well, I'm not against that kind of movie," you admitted to her. "If done right, I think you could even create a cult following like _Twin Peaks_ or _The Rocky Horror Picture Show_."

You felt a tingle through your fingers, twitching as you wanted to get started on Junko's script right away. Lips quivering, threatening to break out into a smile, you desperately wanted to hear more about what video Junko had in mind. Even the Fashionista could sense your innate desire to create what she had.

Which was just perfect for her.

"Uh-huh," Junko agreed, a smile that didn't quite reach her eyes evident on her eyes. "That's the plan."

* * *

By the time Junko left, the Sun was starting to set, dying everything in a warm and comforting orange light. Spring was still in the air yet there was the scent of freshly cut grass, the heavy smell of hot pavement, indicators that summer was near.

Once it was near the time she was supposed to meet Mukuro, Junko ended her meeting with you. If the Soldier did her job correctly, then maybe she could cure her boredom, the agonizing, slow-fall pain of putting her plan into motion.

She sighed to herself. ' _Man, how much longer? If that pig-shit did her job right, then maybe I won’t be so bored later on. If things go well, then even Hope's Peak Academy could kickstart my plan_.' Junko walked down the stairs from your dorm room, heading over to one of the courtyards near the main campus. 

The Fashionista couldn't help but think of how boring her plan was going, how swimmingly well it was proceeding. But, if Junko was one thing, she was patient. Big things don't happen overnight and Junko wasn't the Ultimate Miracle Worker. Reveling in her boredom, she senses a familiar presence approaching from before, nose crinkling in disgust.

"There you are, Big Sis. Jeez, sure took you long enough!"

Spinning on her heel, Junko pouted as Mukuro approached her, black bag draped over shoulder. The Soldier gave an apologetic smile, eyes turned away from the domineering glare of her younger sister. Despite Mukuro's tough exterior, Junko was one of the few people that made her feel tiny, insignificant. Nothing more than an ant that obeyed and executed orders.

"S-Sorry, Junko. Here are the files that you asked for," Mukuro said, handing her a black folder embossed with the academy's logo.

Junko snatched her from her hands, eagerly flipping through the pages. Despite the speed at which she skimmed the pages, her eyes took in every detail, every diagram of the procedure, every requirement for the test subject. These details weren't in the candidate's packet and Junko could see why.

There was no one in their right mind who would agree to this if they knew. Well, if they were desperate enough, at least.

She grinned as her fingers found themselves on the last page, a photo of the project's candidate staring back at her.

"So, this guy is the lucky lab rat, huh?" the blonde whispered eagerly, grinning madly. "Hajime Hinata."

* * *

The following day, you were left pondering how to put Junko's advice into action. You chewed your lip, staring out the window. Your break period was unusually lonely today. Chiaki had gone off to talk to the Student Council, Mahiru with Hiyoko, Sonia with Gundam, and Nagito was off worshipping a statue of the academy's founder.

You were too deep in thought to visit Teruteru in the cafeteria today, too deep in thought over what Junko said the other day.

"Be confident, huh?" you muttered, recalling your meeting with that Reserve Course student. It was like karma, your words biting you in the ass. "…What does that even mean?"

You were an Ultimate, that fact alone should fill you with assurance. You were the best in your field and your future was guaranteed if you graduated. Even so, outside of directing, you were hopeless in everything else. It wasn't your fault, it was just suffocating to believe that things you couldn't control might go against you.

'Well, there's nothing I can do about things out of my control. But, one of the methods to acting is regulating emotions,' you thought to yourself. One of the many reasons that Hikaru was chosen as the Ultimate Actor was his proficiency in overseeing his emotions, knowing what feelings each of his roles felt. And whatever emotion Hikaru channeled into that character always captured the audiences' attention.

Your expression brightened, an idea forming in your head. _'Let's try it out with one of my classmates! I won't do anything extreme, so I can avoid hurting them. I just have to make sure I don’t go over-board.'_

"Hey, [name], have you seen Sonia around?"

You spun around in your seat, though you already knew who it was based on the question. Kazuichi was looking at you expectantly. Brows raised, you felt like the perfect person to test your skills on appeared. The Mechanic was always bothering you for Sonia's whereabouts, and this seemed to be the prime opportunity to steer him into giving up his feelings for Sonia.

You knew it was going to end in heartbreak, anyways.

Flashing a friendly smile towards him, you said, "No, I haven't seen her since break started." Kazuichi's face lost its bright vigor, disheartened at your news.

"I see, so you don't know then."

"Ah, wait one minute."

Before the Mechanic can step away from your desk, he turned towards you, eyes expectant. "Is there something else you wanted to say to me?" Kazuichi inquired.

You soothed your nerves, trying to force yourself to feel a calm you didn't quite have. Just like with Hikaru, you wanted to play a specific role, the role of a supportive friend. 'I'm doing this for Kazuichi's own good,' you lied to yourself. 'He's my friend, so this is the least I can do.'

"Er…" you say purposefully, the hesitance coming out naturally. "If you really wanna impress Sonia, how about playing it cool? Ease up on the simpi—I mean, following and compliments."

Kazuichi blinked, trying to follow your words. "But, don't girls like it when a guy fawns over them?" he asked you. You made a face. ' _Men can't be this stupid, right?_ ' you wondered.

You force an awkward smile, equal parts sincere and friendly. "Not all the time. Sometimes, it's good to let women have their independence," you assured him. "Sonia is a princess. I'm sure she doesn't want to be pampered all the time. Sometimes, she wants to be a normal girl."

Kazuicihi mulled over your advice. You sounded so sure in your words and, besides, you were close to Sonia. And, you were a girl, so you had to have special insight on what the Princess thought. Considering those factors, Kazuichi decided to trust in your words.

"Hmm," Kazuichi nodded. "I guess you're right…Alright! I'll give it a try!"

He grinned at you as the bell rang, signaling the end of your break. "Thanks, I'll let you know the progress on Miss Sonia! That'll show that Gundam how cool and level-headed I can be."

You laughed lightly. "Sounds good. Let me know how that goes."

As the Mechanic left for his desk, you felt a well of pride at how well you handled Kazuichi. Turning towards the window, you could see your smirk on the glass

_'Maybe this won't be as hard as I thought.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	8. First Friend

Hajime flipped through the file once more, trying to understand what he was reading, what he was signing up for.

The words 'experimental' and 'low success rates' popped out at him, the bold and professional lettering contrasting to the sticky note tacked on the top of the file.

_'Aren't you tired of being a nobody in a crowd of nobodies? Don't you just wanna be special?'_

♥

More than the file, more than the complicated procedures, more than the diagrams, did Hajime focus on the note written in a girl's handwriting. He guessed mostly from the tone of the words and the small mocking heart at the end. It narrowed down his list of suspects—an ordinary student, whether they be from the Reserve or Main Course couldn't have access to these types of documents. All he could discern about the sender's identity was the fact they were a girl.

"A nobody in a crowd of nobodies," he murmured, recalling the white noise from his former high school.

_'He's really nothing special, how'd he get into the academy.'_

_'Must be nice, being rich.'_

_'He wasn't scouted. He's part of the Reserve Course!'_

Hajime felt his heart tear itself apart, shame bubbling up in his stomach and threatening to overtake him. Ever since his friendship with Chiaki, those voices quieted and Hajime felt more content with himself. But, as Chiaki left him for her class representative duties, he couldn't help but be a little envious. She looked like she was having so much fun, every day in and out of Hope's Peak.

Stewing in his self-pity, Hajime felt the voices in his head grow louder, doubt gripping at his heart. Yet they grew louder when he was alone, a desperate echo that only spoke when Hajime was at his lowest. Then, he recalled your words, crisp and clear through the din of the noise inside his head. 

_'I’m a student at Hope’s Peak. And so are you, Hajime. Stand a little taller and have a little confidence in yourself.'_

Even if those words pierced at like bullets to the heart, who would actually agree to this procedure? He wasn't that desperate for a talent…right?

* * *

"So, how's my brilliant advice going?"

"I wouldn't call it 'brilliant'…"

Sitting beside Kazuichi, you were quite curious about his 'romantic' progress with Sonia. Or lack of. It seemed that he was following your words with ease, avoiding any areas that he thinks Sonia might be in, steering clear of smothering compliments, and lately no stalking incidents, either! 

But, what concerned you the most was his views towards Sonia. Despite your views on how Kazuichi felt towards Sonia, it didn't mean you hated the Mechanic. Ignoring his irritating infatuation with the Princess, you were rather fond of the male. His love for machinery was endearing and he was fun to joke around with. And you would have liked him better, if not for his tendency to stalk the Princess. So, your next pet project was to try and have Kazuichi change his views on Sonia.

If he could fix that, maybe he stood a chance to be actually liked by her?

Besides, wasn't the practice that Junko advised you to do? To be a bit more confident in your own skill, to use your talents in leading others as a way to understand Hikaru.

"I would," you countered him with a smug grin. "Just the other day, Sonia was concerned about you. She hasn't seen you in the corner of her eyes lately."

Well, the exact wording was 'Is there something wrong with Kazuichi again', but he didn’t need to know that.

The Mechanic's eyes gained a gleam in them, one of excitement and happiness. "R-Really?! Miss Sonia asked about me?! I think this is the first time she's done that!" he exclaimed eagerly before dreamily sighing, falling into the day where he would eventually date Sonia. It seemed so near, so close Kazuichi could almost taste it. To have a beautiful blonde princess be his girlfriend seemed like such a dream compared to his usual life that awaited him at home.

You grinned, "Yup! So, you know, keep your distance from Sonia and treat her like a normal person." 

Kazuichi gave a pause. "A normal person?" he repeated. "But, she's a princess. Wouldn't that be disrespectful?"

You shook your head, keeping your stance firm on the subject. "Of course not! Just _listen_ to me, Kazuichi," you asserted, trying to get your opinion across. "You're _always_ treating Sonia like a princess when all she wants is to be seen as a normal girl. If you haven't made any progress in the past year, then isn't it time for you to get some help. My advice worked, didn't it?"

The Mechanic went quiet, brows furrowed together in deliberation. Your words the other day worked and Miss Sonia did ask about him, which was levels better than flat-out disregard. Despite Sonia's cold stares and dismissive remarks, Kazuichi still persisted, wishing for the day where his efforts would be rewarded. But, your advice has brought him more results than he ever did. And there was no reason for Kazuichi to doubt you because you were his classmate and you wanted the best for him.

"I guess, you're right."

* * *

Orange sunset dyed the courtyard, a warm glow that settled into your bones. The peace of playing games with Chiaki replaced the daily stress of your classes melting away as you sat with the taciturn girl. She had invited you out to play Galaga since you more or less had some interest with the series. Her usual partner was out for the day and Chiaki wanted to unwind from her duties by playing games in the sun. 

You guessed she deserved it.

Chiaki was a great representative, transformed over the course of a year from a loner into the reliable person before you. One of the qualities that made Chiaki a proper class representative was how calming she was to be around. She listened, understood, and gave honest words of advice. It was such a stark contrast to the Gamer that hesitated to accept the position.

But, a few months into your freshman year did Chiaki suddenly take up Chisa’s offer. You never wondered why she suddenly welcomed the position, chalking it up to be that she just grew attached to her fellow Ultimates. However, it seemed to be for the best as Chiaki brought the class together seamlessly.

The chipper music of Galaga filled the air as you tried to beat Chiaki's high score, a futile competition yet still fun to play. After losing the last of your health, you groaned, throwing your hands in the air in exasperation. "Ughhh! Chiaki, c'mon, now this ain't fair. You're _literally_ the Ultimate Gamer. I can't beat you," you whined, giving your friend a hopeless look.

Chiaki released a breath that she didn't know she was holding, body relaxing. "It's not about winning or losing. Didn't I tell you this before?" she asked rhetorically. "It's about having fun."

You snorted and rolled your eyes, "Right. Maybe the real treasure was the friends that we made along the way."

The Gamer pouted at your words, cheeks puffing out adorably. "Don’t be like that,” she huffed. “It's the same for you, isn't it? What matters in a movie isn't its popularity, but how much passion and creativity was put in it." 

"Touche…” you muttered, yielding to her argument. Looking down at Chiaki's extra console, you felt the urge to play again, wanting to relive the high of almost beating the boss, predicting attack patterns, and having fun with the Gamer.

Smiling, you pumped your first into the air eagerly. "Alright! I challenge you to a rematch, Chiaki! My inner _Shounen Jump_ protagonist is fired up!" 

Rebooting the game, you didn't notice the small smile on Chiaki's face as she felt your perseverance. 

"You remind me of him sometimes…" she noted quietly. 

You tilted your head, curiosity momentarily quipped and putting a pause in your gaming. "Who?"

"Hajime."

The name made your blood freeze, breath hitched in your throat. Just hearing Hajime's name made you feel anxious, the bitter reminder of your first encounter with the Reserve Course Student bringing back negative feelings. However, that was then and this was now. Clinging to Junko's words like a badge of honor, you feigned a confidence you didn't feel, hoping that the lie would become a truth. Your achievement with Kazuichi was proof of that.

"C'mon," you said teasingly, a casual smile plastered on your lips. In an effort to distract yourself, you turned on the Galaga game, ready to shoot down some aliens. It was a poor attempt to calm yourself, but avoiding eye contact with Chiaki did ease your nerves, giving a brief respite to think of what you wanted to say. "We're as different as night and day. I don’t know much about the guy, but I doubt that we share any similarities."

"It's not a bad thing," Chiaki interjected, effectively dodging an enemy projectile. "You and Hajime are kind of worrywarts, towards yourself and others. But, that doesn’t stop you from advancing. I'm a bit envious about you two…"

That statement threw you off, being the object of someone's envy entirely foreign. Hiding your surprise, you force your eyes on the console and focus on the attack pattern. Yet, no matter how much you wanted to focus on the game, you wanted to know what Chiaki thought, and wanted to know the meaning behind her words.

"Why's that?" you inquired, trying to sound as casual as possible.

Chiaki paused, trying to gather her words as she leaned back into the bench. "Well, remember how it took me a few months to accept the position of being class rep?"

You nod distractedly yet still intently listened to her.. "Uh-huh…"

"It was because of Hajime that I became class rep. At first, I wasn't very sure on accepting the role since I'm not used to being a part of a group," Chiaki explained to you. "I didn’t know how to handle being a leader, either. So, I kept pushing off the decision for another day.” As you continued to play the game, you didn't notice as Chiaki lifted the console into the air, arms stretched languidly upwards. "But, Hajime convinced me to give it a try. He said, 'If you just give it your all, then things should turn out okay'."

You lost a life.

Focus ripped away from the game, you turned towards Chiaki with wide curious eyes. However, even as you tried to wrap your mind around her words, you still couldn’t find what way you related to Hajime of all people. You keep calm and charge forwards into the conversation, still aiming for a score as high as you manage.

"I'm glad he's your friend, Chiaki. But, I don't get how me and him are similar."

Her eyes darted over to you for the briefest of moments. "You and Hajime understand people and try your best to help them out…I think. You gave some advice to Kazuichi, right? In order to impress Sonia."

Your lips formed into a crooked smile, remembering how closely Chiaki followed her classmates' activities. "So, you heard about that."

"Yeah…" Chiaki shot down the mid-way boss, continuing the conversation while playing. "I think Kazuichi seems calmer now and Sonia's been experiencing less stalking incidents. I only wanted you to warn you to be careful since may be interfering with someone's love life can be dangerous."

The concern in Chiaki's soft and quiet tone was evident, not judging you for your interference nor denouncing your actions. Rather, she was merely worried about what you might have gotten into and what that would mean for Kazuichi. Even so, you couldn't help but feel a little offended. You were only trying to help the Mechanic and Princess out. It wasn't like you were going to make them hate each other or something.

Brushing aside the prickle of irritation, you replied back to Chiaki as calmly as you could. "I was a little worried about Sonia and Kazuichi. Sonia doesn't like him at all. And Kazuichi is only going to get hurt if kept up his behavior. I wanted to spare them from at least a little pain."

Heavy silence filled the air, the only noise filling the air was the Galaga soundtrack. The chipper tone did little to sate your nerves, your heart.

"I see," Chiaki finally said. You glanced at her and, as you expected, the Gamer was still fixated on her console. "In any case, be careful. I worry about you, just like Hajime, since you're my friend." A beat of silence, Chiaki continued to play as if nothing happened.

Something in your shoulders relaxed, momentary annoyance melting away. Chiaki's concern was touching and genuine. Again, you had to be amazed at how much the girl before you differed from the one you met last year. Before, Chiaki was introverted, always eager to be alone and away from the class. You had thought it was Chisa's doing that made Chiaki accept the class representative position.

Apparently, you were wrong about Hajime Hinata. Maybe he was special, if only a little bit.

. 

.

.

Oh, that reminded you of something.

"Speaking of Hajime," you started, trying to narrowly dodging the alien projectiles. "Don't you usually hang out with him? Where is he?"

"I think he's speaking with someone else today. Apparently, it's really important."

* * *

Usually, Hajime would wander closely to the Main Course building as he could. If that Juzo person ran into him, he would no doubt be thrown out without a second thought. However, today Hajime had to talk with a special person. 

In his bag, the folder seemed to be heavier, a weight that only grew over the course of the school day. Despite sitting down on the courtyard bench, Hajime was reduced to a bunch of nerves, a nervous and erratic ball of energy bouncing his stomach. His gut was tight and Hajime wanted nothing more than to just run away into his bed and never get up. 

"Maybe, this is wrong," he muttered to himself, leg bouncing in a vain effort to rid himself of his nervous energy. "But, who would pass up the chance to have multiple talents?"

He lost himself in a daydream, the possibilities of his future opening up. Hajime could be anything, be anyone. Whatever career he wanted to pursue, he could do it. Hajime could be a part of society, could help others, could meet strange and unique people. It was almost overwhelming how much potential his future held if he accepted the Kamukura Project.

_'Aren't you tired of being a nobody in a crowd of nobodies? Don't you just wanna be special?'_

♥

He clenched his teeth together, bone grinding against bone to keep himself from screaming. Then, he remembered you from the other day, your nonchalant tone echoing in his mind.

_'I’m a student at Hope’s Peak. And so are you, Hajime. Stand a little taller and have a little confidence in yourself.'_

The setting sun brought the bitter memory to surface. He was even sitting in the same courtyard where he met you. It was no wonder that the encounter resurfaced. Even if it was an accidental meeting, your words left a deep impression said from the mouth of another Ultimate student. One from the strange way you acted and the fact that you were Chiaki's friend was also interesting. 

"There you are."

A kind voice reached his ears and immediately the male turned towards its source.

"Mr. Tengan, good afternoon," Hajime greeted politely as the elderly man took a seat. "Thanks for taking the time to meet me today."

Tengan smiled. "It was no trouble at all. You're contacting me about the Kamukura Project, correct?"

Hajime nodded, taking a moment to put his thoughts into words. "That's right. I…received this folder with all kinds of details of the project. I don’t know who sent it, but I wanted your take on what it means, Mr. Tengan." He handed the dark folder to him, who briefly thumbed through the pages.

He frowned, curiosity forming in his mind as to who could have found this. However, Tengan would deal with that later. Hajime's admiration towards the academy was one of the reasons that he was a candidate and his stay in Hope's Peak Academy depended on it.

It was all the more pressuring for Hajime to accept.

Despite stepping down from his position as the headmaster, he was still under the thumbs of those old men. Tengan was already in poor favor with the other academy employees because he had so openly opposed the Kamukura Project, which made it difficult to navigate through the school without suspicion.

But, even the slightest resistance he could cause to the Steering Committee and their sick experiment was a chance Tengan couldn't pass up.

"I can't deny that these details are true," he began hesitantly. "Although, that's even more reason to reject the project. This experiment is more of…a work in progress based on nothing more than theories. Not even the faculty have full faith in it." Tengan recalled how uneasy the staff seemed when the Steering Committee proposed the Kamukura Project. Even Jin Kirigiri didn't look all that enthused. Despite the immorality of the experiment, no one objected to it in fear of losing their jobs.

Hajime paused, leaning into the bench as if defeated. "But…But, isn't that all the more reason to try? If the experiment is successful, that means it would be a big breakthrough! Not just for me, but also for any of the other Reserve Course students who want to participate!" 

Tengan furrowed his brows together in tight worry. "Why is that?"

"Mr. Tengan, it's no secret that the Reserve Course students are treated as second-rate," Hajime said, recalling the hushed whispers of envy from his fellow classmates whenever that Photographer came by. "If there's a chance to actually obtain talent and attend the academy, then for the sake of my dream I would take on the risk."

The elderly man felt the alarm bells go off in his head, noting the gleam in Hajime's green eyes. Back in his day, he probably would have respected the boy's determination. Yet, it was too strong, too intense that he felt like Hajime would crash and burn just like Icarus getting too close to the Sun.

"Hajime."

The stern voice in which Tengan spoke called the green-eyed male back to attention. 

"You don't have to fear normalcy," the elder assured. "Even without talent, you could still have a good life with friends and family. Oftentimes, Ultimates have lonely existences, at least before attending this school. Though that's what makes them stand out in a way. Despite that, I believe that living a life of solitude isn't worth having a talent."

The words on the note repeated loudly in his head:

**_AREN'T YOU TIRED OF BEING A NOBODY IN A CROWD OF NOBODIES?_**

Hajime stood up, rising to his full height as the voices of his classmates, from you, and the mysterious sender all mixed together in his mind. Despite the increasing noise, Hajime knew what he wanted to say.

"Yet, living such a hard life was worth it. Since they were able to attend Hope's Peak."

_'I’m a student at Hope’s Peak. And so are you, Hajime. Stand a little taller and have a little confidence in yourself.'_

"…Excuse me?"

_'I feel bad for his parents having to pay such a hefty tuition.'_

_'Isn't he only attracted to the brand-name like the others? What a sheep.'_

"The Ultimates have talent and now they get to live a life knowing that they're chosen, that they're meant for greater things, that they're different…!" Hajime words came out rushed, the itchy ball of nervousness bouncing erratically in his torso, emotions reaching a high as a single question rose in his mind.

**_DON’T YOU WANNA BE SPECIAL?_ **

"I just want to be somebody special!"

* * *

"Mahiru!" 

The Photographer turned, eyes wide as she spotted her familiar friend racing towards her. "Satou, hey!" the red head greeted. "I was about to get you from the Reserve Course and meet up with the others." 

Satou turned the faintest shade of pink, a shy smile worming itself onto her face. "Aw, you didn't have to do that! I don't want you to accidentally run into a _certain yakuza bitch_ and get hurt," she proudly replied with a self-satisfied smirk. 

Mahiru grinned, feeling the protectiveness in Satou's words and bringing warmth to her heart. "Haha, thanks. You don't have to, though. I wanna learn how to stand up for myself when it comes to Natsumi."

"I admire your drive," Satou dubiously started. "But, she's part of the yakuza. Talentless, yes, but her connections are dangerous. And like I said before, I'll protect you from Natsumi." Mahiru ignored the dangerous glint in the girl's eyes, not wanting to know about her intentions. She didn't want to doubt her close friend, the very thought of doing so stirring her gut with a flurry of discomfort.

"I-I'll keep that in mind. Um…anyways, let's hurry before Hiyoko throws a fit!"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	9. Parental Issues

"Oh? What a surprise, if isn't Big Bro and the help."

The front gate of the Kuzuryuu estate was just as imposing as the people that lived inside it. Unmoving wood and metal was the boundary between the clan and the outside world. Carved out generations ago, even in the middle of the city, the clan's estate was a traditional Japanese home, large winding halls and the scent of mahogany as a constant. An image of rigid tradition unchanged over the years, a symbol of power cultivated through business and crime going hand in hand. If one delved further into the rooms, the air became heavy with violence and swearing, especially so if Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu were in another of their daily brawls.

Fuyuhiko scowled. Walking to school with Natsumi would have been a pleasant morning routine if not for the… _Natsumi_ part.

Out of respect, Peko bowed. Even if Natsumi wasn't her master, she still demanded respect as a child of the Kuzuryuu clan. "Good morning, Miss Natsumi. The Young Master and I are here to escort you to the academy," she said, tone formal and neutral. Not a hint of emotion could be heard in the Swordswoman's voice, just as she was trained to politely greet the children of the Kuzuryuu clan.

" _Not escort_ ," the Yakuza corrects sharply. "We're all walking together to school like normal high school students."

Peko nodded. "I see. Then, let's hurry to the academy, Young Master. Our campuses are on opposite ends of each other."

"Don't call me 'Young Master'!"

At her brother's outburst, Natsumi chortled, a wide grin hidden in her hand. "That's the one of the many orders Peko _doesn't_ follow," the blonde comments. "For a tool, she's kinda defective."

Fuyuhiko cast her a warning glare, a gesture that told her to stop before she said something she would regret. Natsumi smirked, but dropped the subject anyways. 

"By the way, Peko, it won't be long until I get a spot in the Main Course as the Ultimate Little Sister. Soon, you guys won't be having to accompany me cuz I'll be dorming, too!" Natsumi confidently declared, hand poised on her chest.

The Yakuza raised a brow, completely off guard from her boisterous declaration. "…Did Mom and Dad go through with their 'Kill Koizakura' plan?"

Natsumi stamped her feet childishly. "No! You would think that Japan's Most Violent Couple could come up with a few ways to murder a talent scout. If it wasn't for his connections with Hope's Peak and some powerful people, he would be swimmin' with the fishes by now!"

When Fuyuhiko and Peko were scouted for the academy, Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuyuu nearly destroyed an entire room with their anger. They couldn't stand the idea that only their son would go in and not Natsumi, who seemed to be more suitable to be the Ultimate Yakuza.

 _If only Natsumi was the first born_ , _then I can leave the Kuzuryuu clan in her hands,_ their father used to say. _She would make a much more suitable heir. Not the disappointment of the family,_ their mother would mutter.

What really got to them was how Fuyuhiko refused to let Peko reject her enrollment as the Ultimate Swordswoman. No matter how much they threatened, belittled, or hit, he didn’t budge. Peko deserved better than this life and he was going to do everything in his power that her future was secured.

"So, in the end, you got nothing," Fuyuhiko surmised with crossed arms. Natsumi was still in the Reserve Course for better or for worse.

The scowl returned on Natsumi's face and she leaned close to her brother, lowering himself to his height just slightly. "I don't have 'nothing'. Besides, you made me do this! If you made Peko fuckin' rescind her invitation, none of this would have happened," she bitterly spat out, voice low with malice.

"Listen here, Natsumi," the Yakuza glared. "What's done is done. So. Let. It. Go. I'm not askin' you again."

The siblings stared each other down, molten gold against molten gold. Even as Peko passively observed many of their arguments, it was always a touchy subject whenever Hope's Peak was brought up. Natsumi was always stubborn about her talent as the Ultimate Little Sister, always insisting that it was her talent, that she didn't deserve to be in the Reserve Course.

The air around Natsumi and Fuyuhiko seemed to crackle, the beginning of a fight between Kuzuryuus. Peko has seen enough in her lifetime to step in. Sidestepping between the pair, she had her back towards Fuyuhiko and was looking down at Natsumi.

"Miss Natsumi," the Swordswoman begins gently, "Please drop the subject."

The blonde glared daggers at her, lips pulled back into a primal snarl. However, with Peko's intimidating aura and the thin line Natsumi treaded with her brother, she hesitantly backed down. A sibling spat was insignificant to her grand plan, anyways.

"Tch! Back to what I was saying…Remember a _certain freckled-faced bitch_ I used to butt heads with in middle school?" Natsumi rhetorically asked, a light smirk playing on her lips.

Peko stepped away, allowing Fuyuhiko to have a full view of his sister. He slowly nodded in response to Natsumi's question, trying to pin a name and face to whoever his sister was talking about.

"Turns out she got accepted into Hope's Peak. And if she just got 'expelled' or 'never came back'," Natsumi said with air quotes and a smile. The same deadly smile that meant business, the same smile as their mother's. "Then, there's gonna be a slot open! And that would be my chance to shine as the Ultimate Little Sister! It shouldn't be so hard to stand out against those dead end trash fires."

Both Fuyuhiko and Peko blinked, long and hard at her statement. "What the hell are you even sayin'?" the Yakuza asked her, completely dumbfounded with Natsumi's plan. Just like Mr. Kuzuryuu, Natsumi spoke with violence and force.

"Let's say she got into an accident or failed her exams, then _poof_!" With her hand, the girl made an expulsive gesture, fingers curling into the air, a wolfish and hungry grin on her face. "Free spot for the takin'."

"It doesn't work like that, Natsumi."

Her hands clenched into tight fists, shaking from Fuyuhiko's harsh rejection. "Why not?! The staff always say that anyone from the Reserve Course can move to the Main Course _if_ there's room and _if_ they have talent!"

It was too early in the morning to comfort his sister about the harsh realities of Hope's Peak. It didn’t take a rocket scientist to notice how toxic the academy was, how much of a ticking time bomb they sat on. The Reserve Course was just a breeding ground of elitism and negativity. And Natsumi taking part of it just made Fuyuhiko feel sick to his stomach.

"When has a talentless student gone up to the Main Course, Natsumi?! They just say that so people can stay quiet and keep getting your money! Just think about it! Even if there's a spot, you _are not_ going to make the cut!"

The silence in the air was sharper than any sword Peko ever wielded.

It was as if the string on the fragile curtain of illusion fell away, drifting down to reveal ugly reality.

The moment of quiet was all too brief, broken by Natsumi's voice.

"Fuck you, Fuyuhiko."

It was even worse that she wasn't yelling or cursing or anything. Natsumi's tone didn't hold her usual heat and vigor, the voice that befitting of a true yakuza. Instead, it was ice cold demanding nothing but to be left alone. She went past the point of shouting, her anger couldn't be funneled into volume and instead she walked past her brother, roughly shouldering into him.

The Yakuza grunted, merely taking the brunt of her petty gesture.

"Young Master," Peko stepped forwards, aiming to get Natsumi. "I'll go get—"

"Don't bother." 

Her eyes widened and she turned around towards Fuyuhiko. Peko felt something inside of her break at his face

An unreadable expression of hurt, regret, and anger swirled together into whirlwind of emotion that Peko knew all too well, the one thing she couldn't protect Fuyuhiko from. For the first time, the Swordswoman was at a loss on what to do for her Young Master. She wasn't trained to protect her Young Master from emotions nor the abuse that their parents dealt. All she could was point her sword at whatever stood in his way.

But, how could Peko protect her master from his own heart?

* * *

Dinner with your family was a nice and quiet affair, the rare times whenever your parents had free time from work. It was a challenge to have all of your schedules align: between work, social life, and academics. However, in the rare times of having family's free time align, you found yourself giddy with excitement, so much so that even your classmates noticed.

Even during break did you find yourself unable to eat your snacks without a silly grin on your face, fidgeting in your seat.

Focused on the prospect of eating good food and seeing your family, you were too preoccupied with the excitement of all that you didn't notice Fuyuhiko approach your desk, hand slamming down on your desk.

"Hey, you have a younger sibling too, right?"

You blinked, the harsh gesture bringing you back to reality.

Turning upwards, you saw the Yakuza with Peko at his side. It seemed that she was always at his side, stuck like glue. You figured she had a crush on him, but you could never tell with someone as quiet as Peko. Fuyuhiko didn't seem to mind, so you left it alone.

If Peko was anything like this Toko person your brother mentioned, _then_ you would be worried.

"I do…Why?"

His golden eyes bore into yours, causing you to shrink under his gaze. At first, you didn't think such a baby-faced boy would be the Ultimate Yakuza. Yetm after spending an entire year with Fuyuhiko, you had no doubt that he should have the title. His pride and stubbornness was just a trait you felt belonged to no one but the Ultimate Yakuza.

Your relationship with Fuyuhiko wasn't as close as the one you had with Chiaki or Sonia. To your surprise, you and Fuyuhiko did share an interest with Western and action films due to how lawlessness was glorified. You were still debating on how the yakuza was portrayed in _Kill Bill_ , whether the director was correct or not on how much research he did. Once you would have thought it would have been a sensitive issue, but Fuyhiko held nothing back on his thoughts.

And thus, you entered a blossoming relationship with the Yakuza whenever you discussed the finer points of media violence and lawlessness! It provided great insight on the inner works of organized crime while you treated him more or less normally without an ounce of fear.

At this, the Yakuza sharply turned his head from you, cheeks darkening. "W-Well, I wanted to know if you two ever got into fights," he muttered in embarrassment. You had a vague idea of where this conversation was going.

With narrowed eyes, you answered, "Of course, we do. And, again why are you asking?"

"Stop with the questions…!" he barked out in agitation, scowling. "I'm getting to the point."

Your made a face, irritation clearly spread across your features. However, you bit your tongue and waited for Fuyuhiko to continue.

"I wanted to know…how would you make up with them."

Fuyuhiko said it so quietly, so low that you didn't think you heard him right. Was—Was he asking you for advice? You couldn't fathom what brought this situation. It only took you a brief moment before you figured he was just acting like a good older brother who wanted to make up with his sibling. Sometimes the simplest solution was the answer. 

"If me and Hikaru ever got into a fight, then I would either wait until we both cooled down. Or I apologize over some food. On my dime, of course."

You remembered your childhood days whenever you fought with Hikaru, the stony silences and how uncomfortable it was in the house. Your fights with your brother was always about something stupid. Which TV show to watch, who ate your snacks, or how bossy you could be when it came to directing or how horrible Hikaru's acting was. And since your parents were workaholics, it was always up to you to patch everything up.

With your meager allowance, you were always the first to apologize over store-bought ice creams and snacks. And after that, it was right as rain.

Fuyuhiko stared at you dubiously. "Through food?"

"Through food," you affirmed with a nod. "If you want a passionate speech about the wonders of a good meal, just ask Teruteru. I'm sure he can do a way better job than me."

At the mention of the Chef, Fuyuhiko sneered in disgust. He knew how passionately disgusting Teruteru could be when it came to cooking and food. He didn't want to sit through another speech with _innuendo_ after _innuendo._ Fuyuhiko still had nightmares about your birthday cake and the aphrodisiacs from last year.

"I'm good, thank you."

* * *

Like a true teenager, you had thought long and hard over what you wanted to eat from the restaurant's menu, a slew of Japanese dishes vastly different from the academy's Western selection. And since this was on your parent's money, you showed no hesitation in stuffing your face with whatever you wanted.

Seated beside Hikaru and your parents on the other end of the booth, you cheerfully relayed your order to the waiter before he left.

With an eager grin, you playfully laced your fingers together before settling your head on your makeshift net. "Sooo, Mother and Father," you tease, wiggling your eyebrows. "How's it feel to have the nest empty?"

Your mother chuckled, glad that your sense of humor didn't change.

"Actually, really good," your father jokes, "Me and your mother gotta a lot of time for ourselves—"

"I'm gonna have to stop you right there, Dad," Hikaru interjects, expression slightly green. "Any further and I think I'm going to vomit all over this table.

Your mother chuckled, leaning into the booth with a smug grin. "Hmph, fine…! Anyways, now that you two in the dorms, the house is quieter. It does leave a lot of room for me and your father to spend time with each other. You know, every Friday we gamble with the neighbors. It's been so long since we had free time with other adults."

Giving them a nod of appreciation, you say, "Nice, I know how hard it is for adults to have some free time. Miss Yukizome always complains about it despite being the former Ultimate Housekeeper. I mean, can you even expect free time when you're a cleaning lady?"

Hikaru stared at you, briefly recalling a story you told him about the Housekeeper. "Wasn't she the one that hunted down the entire class after everyone was scattered all over the place?"

"The very one," you nodded.

The eyes of your mother widened, lighting up with recognition. "Wasn't she the one that got you completely banned from operating vehicles on campus?"

" _The very one._ "

Both your parents share a shudder, agreeing that the school made the correct choice in this case. As the conversation briefly dropped, Hikaru thought back onto his own class. He didn't have the chance to discuss the 78th class with his parents. There were a lot of tales, too many incidents to explain and go into detail.

_Every day was just too much fun._

"Oh, speaking of class!" Hikaru cuts in eagerly. "You know, I can ask my classmate to give you guys some pointers on your weekly gambling sessions. She's the Ultimate Gambler, so I'm sure that she would be happy to give pointers."

Underneath the table, you clenched your fists, a prick of annoyance that stabbed at your gut. However, you kept your cool and listened intently. Even if the 78th class had Hikaru's attention for the time being, you couldn’t resist your own curiosity about them. You were quite interested in the 78th class since Chiaki was spending time with Chihiro so often. Besides, it wouldn't hurt to find some information on Junko and Mukuro, again.

Your mother's face lit up, "Oh? Really? Do you two get along well? I can't imagine how well the Ultimate Actor and Ultimate Gambler get on."

Hikaru thought for a moment, trying to find a way to describe their relationship. It always came down to whether the two got along or if they disliked each other. "Um, well Celeste hates it when I call her out on her lies. And I don't like it when she nitpicks my acting. There are times when we give each other pointers on how to polish our talents," he explains thoughtfully.

"I tell her to focus on controlling her reflexes and she taught me how to conceal my emotions while I'm playing a role. There was this one time when I was practicing in the courtyard and she completely killed my act. Then, Celeste gave me advice on how to fix it."

At the bitter reminder of the Gambler's words, he felt a rush of annoyance at this. He didn't like being told what to do when it came to acting, but Celeste did have a point. On the stage, Hikaru no longer existed and he had to separate his emotions from the role.

"So…you're like rivals?" your father quips.

"Hmm, yeah I guess so. I never thought of her like that, but probably."

Sensing your opening, you direct the conversation carefully, speaking as naturally as possible. "That reminds me, Mom. In the entrance ceremony, you thought one of the girls in Hikaru's class looked familiar because she advertised one of your favorite make-up brands," you commented, hoping that your mother didn't remember that far back. It was an off-handed lie, a line you thought to say just when Hikaru shifted the topic.

"Did I say that?"

"Uh-huh," you answered. "I only remember because we use the same brand of concealer. And I also saw her around school."

The Actor's eyes lit up, recalling your outing the other day. "Oh, I think we talked about that before...Junko Enoshima and Mukuro Ikusaba. Before, you get started on their last names, I just have to tell you guys that I don’t know either! Junko said it was a sensitive subject, so the entire class shut up about it."

"I-I see…" Not that you cared about their last names, but you wanted to personally know more about Junko. You think that before considering the Fashionista a friend, it would only be fair to know more about her. Even if your way of going about it was a bit sneaky.

"Wait, _the_ Junko Enoshima?!" Your mother nearly stood up in excitement at the mention of the Fashionista. "I didn't know she had a sister! Is she just as pretty as Junko? I bet! Forget about gambling, Hikaru, and just ask Junko if she can send me anything from Dior. I've been on the fence about getting their new lip plumper…!"

The Actor groaned, "Mom! I'm not doing that!"

"It wouldn't hurt to try, Hikaru."

Thankful that your mother ended the makeup banter, you quickly regained control of the discussion with a few quick words. "Yeah, mom. Anyways, remember when I told you who some other directors were interested in Junko? I just wanted to know what was her favorite genre and all. Is it romance, comedy, or what?"

Hikaru paused, digging through his memories to find the answer to your question. However, no matter how much he dug, the Actor couldn’t recall a time where he had any substantial information on Junko. Junko seemed to know a lot of pop culture and mainstream topics, but everything she said just wasn't…personal, Hikaru thought.

"Huh, I don't…really know, actually. If I remember, I can ask Junko or Mukuro about it. I'm a bit curious, too."

Biting the inside of your cheek, you tried not to let your dead end conversation dampen the mood. Junko was a celebrity, she deserved to have a little bit of privacy. Hikaru always complained about that whenever he stumbled on a Twitter account dedicated to every detail of his life. But, that didn’t mean you could investigate Mukuro.

Before you could find a way to move the subject to the Soldier, your father spoke up. "By the way, son, I think you can move next week's meeting to accompany you to your audition in Shibuya. Dunno about your mother, though…" He gave her a side-glance, which she responded with a gentle elbow nudge.

"Hey, I don't have a lot of breathing room since I got that promotion. You're the one that wants me to make all the money—"

"Wait, wait, wait, wait!" you cut off your mother, frantically shaking your hands to stop her. "When I had to go to that film festival last year, none of you guys went…!" Shock and indignation raced in your veins, your composure flying out the window at the newly revealed information. Something hot and ugly was bubbling in your gut, gnawing at your insides. Despite knowing you were acting like a child, you just couldn't help it!

Instinctively, you shot up from your seat next to Hikaru, rattling the dishware. "That’s not fair!"

Your mother pulled you down, tight frown on her lips. "I know it's not fair, dear. But, you're the older sister. You got a more level head than Hikaru," she comforted, a vain attempt if you ever saw one. 

"Besides, your mother and I always watched your films when you were younger," your father added, trying to diffuse the situation. He was always the peacekeeper if you got into a fight with your mother.

"Because Hikaru starred in them!"

He frantically shook his finger at you. "Now, that's not true. We went to your film festivals, too."

You felt a surge of pettiness well up in you, overriding your rational mind as you spat out, "You went to all of Hikaru's auditions and only went to two of my movies productions last year."

There was a beat of silence, the only thing you could hear was the clamor of the restaurant patrons, the rush of the staff members, and a strange buzzing in your reddening ears.

Your mother leaned close to you.

"…Were you keeping count?"

"Oh, my god!" you exclaimed, voice almost reaching to the point of yelling. "That's not the point…!"

Hikaru kindly placed a hand on your trembling shoulders, knitting his brows together. "C'mon, Big Sis. Just drop it." The Actor turned towards your parents. "Listen, you two don’t have to come with me to my audition. I've done plenty on my own so it's okay…"

Your table was dropped into an awkward silence, thankfully broken as the waiter brought your food and placed them onto the table. As if on cue, your family broke out into kind grins as they said words of gratitude to your waiter. However, you just stared at the table, unable to recollect yourself.

There was a horrible, dark, ugly, and monstrous bubbling deep inside that threatened to overtake you. It made you question everything, it made you want to tear the booth apart, to scream. Anything just to release this hot rage, but something held you back. It was like a tight chain around your neck, restraining what you wanted to do, what you wanted to say.

So, you just sat there. Eating and feeling a feeling you couldn't describe.

* * *

One of the things that Hajime dreaded was his weekly talks with his parents. It came around every other week, where they ate together in his old house. They had to cut eating out in a restaurant after he entered the Reserve Course. But, Mrs. Hinata insisted on having a nice family meal once in a while.

As of recently, it was more of an obligation. Hajime just felt like for what his parents sacrificed, he owed them the decency to show up. Even if they pressured him from time to time.

It wasn't just _his_ dream to attend Hope's Peak Academy, but also theirs.

The kitchen table was stacked high with homemade dishes, steam rising from the miso soup and rice. The side dishes were nothing incredible, yet it wasn't bad either. The vegetables were from cans and the fish was just as mediocre as the rest of the meal. Just thinking about the blandness of the meal was enough to send Hajime into a depressive state.

"So, dear," Mrs. Hinata started, scooping some rice into his bowl. "How was school today? Anything happen?" There was that hopeful edge to her voice, wishing for news that her son was accepted into the Main Course. She wanted nothing more than to see Hajime succeed, to become the bright and shining hope that she knew he was.

Mrs. Hinata, just like Hajime, looked like every other office lady: plain and proper in appearance, brown hair tied into a tight bun at the base of her neck. Nothing seemed out of place with her. She was subdued, submissive that in the hopes of doing so, then everything would be fine in some way or another. And underneath the layer of normality, Mrs. Hinata was devoted to her son and husband, wanting nothing more for their husband.

He shoved some rice, chewing slowly to spare himself from answering. With a shake of his head, Hajime looked down at his food, anywhere but the expectant glances of his mother.

"No."

His father, who sat at the head of the table peered up from his cellphone. Even at the dinner table, Mr. Hinata was working. He had to, if he wanted to keep up with the academy's fees.

If Hajime were to pinpoint where he got his ambition and blunt attitude from, it would be his father. Mr. Hinata was the no nonsense type of man, who aimed high yet his natural abilities from doing so. Sometimes, it felt like he _settled_ for his current life rather than _choosing_ it

Unfortunately, Hajime could relate to his father more than his mother. They both shared the desire to be more than they were and that with just enough hard enough, they could achieve their dreams.

"Really?" he inquired dubiously. "Can't you ask that Gamer friend of yours to put in a good word for you with the headmaster? You mentioned that she's a class representative." The words stabbed at his heart, yet it wasn't the first time his parents asked him about Chiaki. But, Hajime would rather die than ask Chiaki to put in a good word for him.

Their friendship meant more than that. 

"No, I don't think she even personally knows Headmaster Kirigiri," he answers him, swallowing down food. For some reason, it tasted like ash. "I did meet with another Ultimate, though. She's Chiaki's friend and part of her class."

Immediately, Mrs. Hinata went to the table, taking her seat at the left. "Is that true?! Who is she?"

Hajime squirmed uneasily in his seat, the expectant gaze of his parents heavier than the looming Kamukura project. He avoided their eyes, staring into some vacant corner of the dining room. "She's the Ultimate Film Director. She's made a lot of short films and ha—"

"I know her! She was a major part in making that blockbuster hit, _World's End Switch_!" There was a glint of admiration in her eyes as she spoke. "And you're friends with her, son?"

He shifted in seat, clearly uncomfortable with the direction the conversation was going. "I can't say we're friends," Hajime hesitantly answers her. "I only ran into her twice and both times were just coincidences."

If he had to say…then both you and him were just acquaintances, connected by Chiaki.

Her face turned somber, the slight downturn of her lips and eyes. "…I see. Well, it's nice that you're meeting new people, Hajime. You never tell us about your friends."

His lips twitched. _'Maybe it's because I don't have any other friends besides Chiaki.'_

Mr. Hinata glanced at his son. "Can't you see, dear?" he asked his wife. "Hajime doesn't need to make friends with the other Reserve Course students. They're a bad influence, they might make Hajime slack off with his studies. I would rather him keep being friends with that Ultimate Gamer girl and find some way into the Main Course." 

He locked eyes with Hajime, making sure that his son wouldn't run away from the question that he knew was on everyone's mind. "Did you give some thought on the project, son?"

For some reason, it felt like a lump suddenly formed in Hajime's throat unable to give his father an answer. However, he wasn't able to lie to the man. He was his father, for God's sake!

"…I have. Mr. Tengan just said to think carefully about my choice." Hajime neglected to mention the note he received the other day. It seemed harmless and it wasn't like his parents could do anything about it. Besides, if the sender wanted him to accept the Kamukura Project, then they were on the same page as Mr. and Mrs. Hinata.

His father quirked a brow at that remark. "That's strange. I always thought that the old man was against it. Whenever we talked, Tengan was always on his high moral horse with us. Tch…" Mr. Hinata trailed off, muttering, "He doesn't understand us _normal_ people, that asshole."

Hajime kept quiet at the remark, knowing deep down that he agreed with his father. Tengan was the Headmaster of Hope's Peak Academy and you can't reach that position unless you had a strong admiration for hope and talent. Besides, you had to be an extraordinary person to even be _considered_ as the headmaster for the academy. Hope's Peak was built to nurture talent and the only way to do so was to have someone just as exceptional to lead the students. 

' _Again and again with talent_ ,' Hajime thought, biting the inside of his cheek. _'If I agree to be a participant, I can get all the talents that the academy researched and become part of the Main Course. But…I have to think about it. I can't just charge recklessly into such a shady experimen_ t.'

The contents of the mysterious folder given to him resurfaced, the diagrams of a human brain and cold rational vocabulary searing his mind. It made Hajime feel sick, wanting to vomit his stomach contents right there on the dining room table. Who would risk their brain just for talent? Even if it was for all the talents that was researched at the academy, it seemed like too much—

"Son."

Mr. Hinata was calling out to him and Hajime looked up from his lap to see his mother staring at him strangely. "I don't want to pressure you or anything," he says slowly, not meeting Hajime's eyes. "Just give it some thought and make the right choice."

The implication was right there, looming over the table like a chandelier. Hajime didn't even need to say anything because everyone knew what he was saying.

He _wanted_ Hajime to accept.

Hajime cast a helpless glance at his mother, but she only smiled weakly. "Your father means whatever choice you choose will be the right one. That's what you meant, right, dear?"

There was no answer. Mrs. Hinata bit her lip, wanting to comfort her son yet not knowing how. Because she knew. She knew that if Hajime accepted the project, his future would open up its possibilities and potential that she knew her son had. She stayed silent and began eating the dinner.

And just like that the subject of the Kamukura Project was dropped, instead replaced with tense silence and the hanging, pressuring implication of what choice his parents hoped he would make.

As Hajime ate his dinner in the discomforting quiet, his thoughts raced, the voices of his former classmates and peers mingling with his parents. Mr. and Mrs. Hinata were just as judgmental and pitying as the voices that ran through his head, mingling together until they were indiscernible from the others. It was crippling to hear their hushed disappointment, the subtle hope of his parents' voices wishing Hajime would just accept to finally have a child of talent and to relieve themselves of their heavy financial burdens.

_'A chance to have talent, huh? Hajime, you could become the hope for all us normal people!'_

_'I know you can do it, Dear. Take your time and make the right choice.'_

His stomach squeezed tight, making him feel sick and dizzy.

_'If only it were that easy.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	10. Undying Loyalty

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> tw: descriptions of physical abuse

Kazuichi sucked in a breath.

Pain surged throughout his entire body as he tenderly touched at the ugly yellow bruising on his torso. His bathroom mirror reflected his father's handiwork in all its awful glory: bruised ribs, a cut hidden in the strands of his bright pink hair, and a bloody lip. Kazuichi hated to see what would happen if he stayed a _full_ weekend back home.

It was as if Fate had made its mission to punish him for deciding to head home for the weekend. Against his better judgement, Kazuichi missed the old man, he hadn't seen him in months. Despite everything, he was still Kazuichi's father, no matter what.

Living in the academy dorms had made him reckless, Kazuichi thought. Too long away from his father made him forget what made the old man tick, how to avoid land mines in conversations, how to listen to his father's moods, how to read his face. The peace of Hope's Peak Academy had made Kazuichi too complacent, so it was his own _damn_ fault that he made his father mad.

It was Kazuichi's fault that he talked to his father, who was too busy guzzling down a bottle of cheap whiskey. He should have known better than to talk to the old man when he was drinking.

The walk back from his dorm room had been a slow and painful one, taking in a pause every now and then to catch his breath and cradle his aching ribs. But, on sheer willpower and luck, the Mechanic managed to make it, all without being caught by Taka. For the past few weeks, the Ultimate Moral Compass had been on the prowl in the boy's dorm, always looking for students that broke curfew, ran in the halls, played their music too loud, any little rule violation was cause for detention.

Even if Kazuichi was an upperclassman, the Ultimate Moral Compass spared no one! 

Pushing aside the victory he managed to pull on that hall monitor, Kazuichi set to work on wrapping his damaged torso.

Each breath unleashed a jolt of pain, electrifying his entire being in painful bursts. Carefully, the Mechanic opened up a bottle of painkillers he managed to snag from the convenience store. Gritting his teeth and ignoring the ache in his body, Kazuichi managed to twist the bottle and tipped it over into his palms. Wave after wave of throbbing pain went through Kazuichi, each one in time with his breathing. But, he knew that he had to keep breathing even with bruised ribs.

He figured that three or four of those small red pills would do the trick. Bracing himself, Kazuichi popped the pills into his mouth, turned on the sink and let the water flow into the cup. Quickly, he gulped down the pills and water.

Kazuichi stared at himself in the mirror, waiting until the painkillers took effect before he got to work on his lip and cut. Slowly, the flares of pain began to die down, now becoming just embers of discomfort.

He leaned closer to the mirror, biting his tongue as a hiss of pain threatened to leave his lips. No offense to Mikan, but Kazuichi couldn't stomach the Nurse looking at his wounds. She could instantly determine what kind of injuries they were, and no doubt she would tell someone, and then it would be all his fault, it would be Kazuichi's fault that his father got in trouble, it would be his fault because he trusted the wrong person—

He shook his head.

"I can't think like that," he muttered to himself, pouring water onto a towel. The Mechanic dabbed at his damaged lip, the blood already somewhat dry and coagulated. "It would seriously suck to have Miss Sonia notice these bruises…But, I might look really cool with a few bandages like Gundam. If she's into that type of stuff."

Once the wound was clean, Kazuichi dug into his bag and grabbed a tube of antiseptic ointment. It was the same brand that his mother used to give him before she left the family and, against his better instincts, Kazuichi found himself at the counter already paying for it. He squeezed out a small dab, gently covered the cut on his lip, and then placed a band-aid.

Harsh pink mixed with dark red, creating a truly hideous color that hurt Kazuichi's eyes. However, he brushed aside his bloody tresses and carefully cleaned the wound. He figured that his father hit him with a wrench because he saw the indentations of the tool on his forehead. Kazuichi grunted, just another ugly mark. Just another reason for Sonia to hate him.

' _Well, I still have the Director's advice_ ,' he recalled as he wiped away the blood, which had also carved a red trail on the side of his head. ' _So far, her advice worked and Miss Sonia's been wondering about me. But, I don’t know._ ' The blood was finally clean off his face and Kazuichi looked more or less presentable. He could say that he got caught in a bike accident or fell down the stairs while running from Taka.

_'Denying my feelings towards Miss Sonia feels like I'm lying.'_

Doubt squirmed into his gut like a worm, but Kazuichi immediately squashed it. Having Miss Sonia's worry was better than _nothing_. And if your advice worked, then worry could turn into concern and from concern could be the blossoming love that the Mechanic always yearned for! It would be a dream come true, a happy end from the nightmare he lived in back home.

Having a beautiful blonde princess as a lover was just what he needed, to heal all the hurt and wounds he suffered with a light touch from Miss Sonia. It would make everything Kazuichi endured seem worth it, if he got his fairy tale ending. The silly thought was unbefitting for someone like the Ultimate Mechanic, but he couldn't help it. One of the few things Kazuichi trusted was his talent and your words, both promising something sweet for all his toils and suffering.

He took a deep shuddering breath, the excitement making him briefly forget about the terrible beating he suffered. Immediately, Kazuichi winced, pain sparking up enough to make him yelp.

"O-Okay," the Mechanic said, "No more of that." 

* * *

"Good morning, Kazuichi!"

You cheerfully greeted the Mechanic, who was a few steps from entering the classroom. With a teasing smile on your face, you added, "So, I was researching some Novoselic traditions and I think you can use that to impress Sonia or like use that as a topic, so you can have an _actual_ conversation with—"

You cut off as you caught sight of the beige bandage on his forehead, now stained with a blotch of blood.

"You're bleeding…! What happened?!" you exclaimed in a hushed whisper and instinctively reached out to inspect the wound. Kazuichi flinched, shying away from your touch.

He gently swatted your hand away and averted his gaze from your concerned eyes. "…It's nothing. I fell down the stairs last night running away from Taka."

"Right," you spat out sarcastically. "And I'm the emperor of Japan. If that hall monitor chased you down, he would have gotten Mikan to fix you up. Spit it out. Did you mess with Grizner again? That bear _just_ doesn't like you, I swear."

"No!" Kazuichi spat out, hastily getting away from the classroom door. You were smart (sometimes) and curious, a dangerous combination that oftentimes led to others being cornered and giving you the answer you wanted. The Mechanic wasn't sure he could prevent himself from slipping up in front of you.

"I didn't mess with the stupid bear," he continued. "If you want to know, I just fell off my bike. It was embarrassing to know that the Ultimate Mechanic fell off a machine, so I didn't tell anyone."

You stared at him, clearly unbelieving of his lie. In your experience, when someone overcompensated it was a clear indicator that they were lying. Dealing with people on your production crew had given you clear indicators whenever someone was uncomfortable or lying. And Kazuichi was clearly lying.

"Fine," you curtly said. "But, at least come with me. I have some bandages and stuff in my bag. Your wound is bleeding again.” 

Kazuichi touched his wound, feeling something moist at his fingertips. "Shit…!" he hissed, cursing himself that he didn't think to bring bandages in his bag. "Why do you have bandages, anyways? Do you have antiseptic or tissue adhesive?"

"Yes, I do, dummy!" you snapped. "I'm a girl. I’m prepared for everything because my bag is secretly a four dimensional pouch that can produce any convenient item."

"No need for the lame joke. Doraemon would sue you."

Rolling your eyes, you stepped further away from the classroom. "I was just trynna lighten the mood. Though, I _am_ serious about me treating your wounds. I'm no Ultimate Nurse, but I can do some basic first aid." Jabbing a thumb towards the entrance hall, you said, "There's still some time before class, so let's go into the courtyard. You can tell me the truth, if you want."

* * *

The crisp morning air stung his wounds. 

With his exposed wound, you carefully dabbed some tissue adhesive onto a cotton swab and pressed it gently against the nasty cut. The bandage's adhesive had absorbed most of the blood, so all you had to do was delicately wash the wound with some water before getting on with your treatment. 

"Be careful up there," Kazuichi warned you. 

"I _am_ being careful," you shot back. On closer inspection, you could see the vague indentation of some kind of tool on the Mechanic's head. ' _It…looks like a wrench_ ,' you slowly realized, a sickening feeling pooling in your stomach. It was a terrible and terrifying guess that was forming in your mind, the very thought making you choke up.

"Who hit you?" you asked, avoiding eye contact and keeping busy with dressing Kazuichi's wound. You had hoped that not looking at the Mechanic, he would be more truthful—even if the truth was too horrible to look at.

His breath stopped in his mouth, the thrumming ache in his torso pounding against his ribs. "…It was my dad."

The silence threatened to crush the both of you.

However, it was Kazuichi's confession that hurt you first.

"…D-Does…he hit you often?" you timidly asked, placing the bloody cotton swab on the bench.

"Only when he's drunk. Wh-Which isn't often…!"

Your eyes darkened at the Mechanic's desperate excuse. _'Liar.'_

"Kazuichi, I'm gonna go kill your son of a bitch dad."

Now, that earned a laugh from him. The way you so confidentially made a death threat sent Kazuichi reeling in a fit of laughter. Though, shortly afterwards, he began to gasp in pain as he felt his torso tighten with the effort to laugh. His efforts to breath tampered into soft groans of aching suffering and immediately, you flinched before quickly looking him over.

"W-Whoa, there!" you warned. "Did that bastard also hit you in the ribs?"

He groaned, "You are _not_ going to kill my dad. You don't have the guts."

You made a face, unable to refute Kazuichi's argument. The thought of killing someone made you recoil with horror and disgust. Yet, you couldn't deny the appeal of murder in _special_ circumstances, such as this.

"…Maybe. Family isn't supposed to hurt each other," you said, lips pulled into a disgusted sneer. "But, if he hits you again, something _could_ happen to him. You don't have to sit there and just take it...I wouldn't."

You let your implication hang in the air and he felt a shiver as your fingers brushed stray strands of his poorly dyed hair. It wasn't a shiver of pleasure nor anticipation.

It was fear. 

You were dead serious, confident, in your threat.

He glanced up at you, who was still brushing aside stray strands of his pink tresses. There was something sinister in your eyes, a look Kazuichi couldn't quite place. If he had to describe it, it was like looking into a dark ocean with a mysterious predator lurking just underneath the surface. It scared Kazuichi more than his father

But, you were his friend and his classmate. You were helping him with impressing Miss Sonia 

He wanted to trust you, wanted to believe in you.

A memory of laughing childish faces and pointed fingers resurfaced, breaking Kazuichi's heart all over again. The last time he trusted someone, it ended so badly, so horribly that trust became a foreign concept to Kazuichi. But, it didn't seem to matter.

You didn't have anything to gain from helping him with Miss Sonia and you were tending to his wounds. What possible reason could Kazuichi have to distrust you?

That darkness in your eyes was off-putting, sure. However, it was aimed at his father, not Kazuichi. You had no motive to hurt the Mechanic.

Your eyes flickered down to Kazuichi's gaze. Whatever was in your eyes was gone, retreating back into the abyss of your irises as if it was never there in the first place. "What is it?" you inquired the Mechanic.

Kazuichi paused, the secure and newly placed bandage pressed firmly against his forehead. "Nothing. Nothing at all."

* * *

Satou trailed after Mahiru.

A pleasant smile was plastered on her lips, just content with watching the Photographer talk with the other Ultimates she was lucky to be hanging out with. Just being near them made her feel like she was part of the Main Course. 

Mikan was timid and vulnerable, weak yet brimming with medical knowledge.

Hiyoko was more foul mouthed than Satou imagined.

And Ibuki was just as she thought: eccentric and brimming with life.

It was no wonder these girls were Mahiru's close friends. She recalled the other Ultimates Mahiru told her about, the ones she was close to anyways. The Ultimate Film Director already famed for her productions was no stranger to Satou. And the spacey Ultimate Gamer seemed charming.

Just hearing about them made Satou feel as if she was an Ultimate herself.

"Jeez, you rotten orange, take some notes on Ibuki's singing!" Hiyoko harshly insulted. "I won't forgive you if you embarrass me in a duet again!"

Mikan sniffled, tears forming on her eyes as she gently wiped them away. However, a few stray droplets went down her cheeks. "I'm sooooorry! I-I-I'll do be-bet-better next time, Hiyoko! So, p-p-please forgive me!"

"Give 'er some slack, Hiyoko!" Ibuki said cheerfully, coming between the Nurse and Dancer. "I think she sang great! The stuttering and Mikan messing up lyrics had its own charm! Like a shy girl breaking out of her shell? OOOh! Or more like how a shy nerd goes from unpopular outcast to a popular girl after finding out she's great at singing! Tell Ibuki which rom com is that!"

Hiyoko scowled in annoyance as Mikan cried her apologies once more. 

Satou could only chuckle at the mundane scene. Being with the other Ultimates was the highlight of her day, no longer stuck in the dregs of the Reserve Course department.

She looked towards the Photographer and commented, "That's the plot for all rom coms! Anyways, the point of karaoke isn't to sound good, but to sound bad all together!"

"Satou's right!" Mahiru agreed cheerfully. "Cheer up, Mikan! You've had fun, right?"

The Nurse sniffled and weakly nodded her head. "See?" the Photographer commented with a flick of her index finger. "No need to cry!"

"A-Alright…I-I-I'm sorry…"

"No need to apologize either!"

* * *

Normal students weren't allowed on the main campus.

One would have thought that Hope's Peak wouldn't blatantly show off their discrimination against the Reserve Course. Yet, it was boldly written in the handbook that Satou received.

But, it was another story to enter the campus when you were surrounded by Ultimates. Even Juzo couldn't touch her! The head of security with his deep dislike of normal students couldn't do anything as Satou waved off Mikan and the others.

"See you guys later!" the dark-haired girl exclaimed happily, waving at them.

"Yaaaa! Let's meet up tomorrow, Satou!" Ibuki eagerly shouted from the gates of the Main Course. With Hiyoko and Mikan flanking the Musician's sides, the trio entered the area to get back to the dorms. However, Satou still felt a warm presence at her side. She turned, eyes wide with surprise.

"Mahiru? What are you doing, don't you have to get back to the dorms?"

The Photographer flashed her a warm smile. "No way! I haven't talked to you in forever. You're just walking off campus, right? So, it's no problem."

Satou grinned, cheeks heating up at how cute Mahiru was being. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around the Photographer, the endearing physical gesture proof of their long friendship. "You're the best, Mahiru!" she cried out, face pressed close to hers. Mahiru felt herself blush, but nonetheless reciprocated the embrace.

It’s been so long since Satou held Mahiru like this, so long that she took the chance to savor the Photographer’s warmth. She nearly forgot how Mahiru felt, how she easily melded into Satou’s arms. It was so nice, so _unbearably_ nice. The thought of Hiyoko and the others being able to be with Mahiru, to be so near everyday and to smell the gentle scent of honey, almost sent Satou into a frenzy. 

However, Satou concealed her whirlwind of emotions with a carefully placed smile and a hum of content. 

"Haha, don’t worry about it," Mahiru said as Satou left her arms. "Let's get going before the train station closes, okay?"

Satou gave a cheerful nod and followed her out of the main gates. It was only a few moments of quiet, the setting Sun dying their surroundings in a warm and comforting orange that Mahiru spoke up. 

Nervously, the Photographer glanced at her friend before summoning the courage to speak. "Um…Satou, we don't keep secrets from each other, right? Me and you're, we're best friends…" Satou raised a brow at that. It wasn't like Mahiru to question their friendship, knowing that their relationship hadn't changed even if they were in different departments.

' _She's really worried_ ,' Satou thought, knowing that Mahiru's line of questioning was only brought up by an underlying yet intense concern. But, maybe she was right to be worried.

Natsumi had been strangely distant and quiet. As quiet as someone like Natsumi could be. She wasn't singling Satou nor Mahiru for abuse, merely leaving the classroom as soon as one of them entered. Satou was sure she was planning something, but she couldn't figure out what. The first time Natsumi tried to do something, someone from the Kuzyuryuu clan carved an ugly scar into Satou's wrist.

It wasn't a fatal wound, yet it was deep enough to serve as a warning shot about messing with Natsumi Kuzuryuu.

Her eyes widened at the realization, _'Is Natsumi going to do something to do Mahiru? But… Natsumi's nothing but a coward who hides behind her daddy's power, she can't possibly do something to Mahiru, right?'_

She glanced at Mahiru, whose olive green eyes were dark with worry and fear. Satou remembered that look: when Natsumi sent her henchmen over to scare her, the Photographer could do nothing but stand still even if she wanted to help. Mahiru was the one to take initiative, to take it upon herself to take care of others. But, if someone she loved got hurt on her watch, she wouldn’t know what to do.

Satou grinded her teeth together, bone on bone. _'I won't let that happen. I have to protect Mahiru no matter what! I can't let that blonde bitch do whatever she wants!_ ' She won't let Mahiru ever get hurt again, _no matter what it takes._

"Ngh!"

Mahiru groaned as she felt a pair of slender hands on her shoulders, nearly pushing her down from the sudden grip. Satou took a bold step forwards, face inches away from hers and Mahiru could see the white in her eyes. The girl's violent gaze bore into the Photographer, violent and possessive.

"You're gonna be okay, Mahiru. You're the photography club's hope—no, you're _my_ hope. And I'll do anything to protect you, I swear it."

The crazed look in Satou's eyes made the Photographer's knees buckle slightly, the fear almost draining her of strength. She's never seen Satou act like this before, and was never held like this. It felt like a ball and chain on Mahiru, the weight nearly crushing her as Satou made that promise. There was no reasoning with Satou when she was like this, always so stubborn, always so foolhardy when it came to Mahiru.

There was no argument the Photographer could use her. No words to calm her down. 

Swallowing the lump in her throat, Mahiru gave her a nervous forced smile.

"R-Right. I believe you, Satou." 

—What else could she say?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> leave a comment and a kudos if you enjoyed this chapter!   
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	11. Berserk Button

"How many times do I have to tell you?! I swear to God, you Reserve Course students can't get it through your head!" 

Hajime was roughly pushed to the ground, skin against concrete. His palms burned from the contact, pebbles digging into his hand yet not hard enough to cause him to bleed. The male looked up from the ground, not able to summon the strength to stand up just yet as the bright afternoon sun shined behind Juzo Sakakura.

Introduced last year as the head of security, Hajime heard rumors about the former Ultimate Boxer. He was a stickler for the rules, not afraid of telling off any of the Hope's Peak staff or students whether they from the Reserve Course or Main Course. Though, Juzo was universally hated by the Reserve Course. It was explicitly stated in the Hope's Peak Academy rules that the Main and Reserve Course be kept separate. And he was the gatekeeper that they so often faced.

"Listen, I'm telling you!" Hajime protested, scrambling back to his feet. Face hot with anger, Hajime didn't care if he was going toe-to-toe with the former Ultimate Boxer. "I have something important to discuss with the Headmaster! I can't get an appointment because the secretary—"

"Blah, blah, blah!" the Boxer interjects, scowling. "All you can do is make cheap-ass excuses. I don't make the rules around here, I only enforce them. So, if you're not accompanied by someone from the faculty, have an Ultimate with you, or have an appointment. You. Can't. Enter."

He lowered himself down to Hajime's eye-level, violet eyes bright with mocking amusement. 

"Got it?"

Hajime sneered at Juzo's deprecating tone, finally snapping at the Boxer. "What's your problem, asshole?!" he yelled back. "I'm still a student here, so let me through!" 

Hajime took a step forward, invading Juzo's personal space. Even if it was just slightly, the Boxer took it as a personal challenge. Glaring at the teenager, Juzo cracked his knuckles, body tense with the desire to fight.

"Step back, kid. I don't want to resort to brute force, but I'm feelin' _very_ threatened right now,'' Juzo growled, barely restraining his instinct to punch.

Despite his growing fear, Hajime's anger, all the experiences he endured from Hope's Peak bubbled over, threatening to spill. Through gritted teeth, he shouted, "I _won't_ back down!" The air sparked between the two of them, heating up to an almost intense level. Both men held their ground, not willing to give an inch, not willing to look away from the other. To do so would concede defeat.

Hajime was the first to throw a punch, sensing Juzo was within striking distance. With a howling cry, Hajime attempted to punch Juzo in the eye, hoping that losing half his vision would grant him an advantage. It was a small hope, a futile wish against the former Ultimate Boxer. However, Juzo deftly dodged, Hajime's knuckles barely brushing against his cheek, and the force of his blow merely disheveled his dark hair.

Juzo grunted, planting his feet firmly into the ground. Centering his weight, the Boxer followed through on his punch, aiming for Hajime's exposed gut, he pulled back his arm and landed a solid hit against him, tight flesh against soft torso. Hajime felt his feet leave the ground, air leaving his lungs from the sudden impact, and he could taste blood and spit in his mouth. Juzo's attack felt so bone-rattling, so painful that it felt like the Boxer's punch spread throughout his body in devastating tidal waves. 

"Aaaugh…!" Hajime groaned, body slipping towards the ground once again as he clutched his bruised torso. Despite the great pain, Hajime had no trouble breathing so that meant none of his ribs were broken. It just hurt like hell. In his haze of suffering, Hajime felt Juzo's pressuring gaze, threatening to crush him.

Despite seeing black at the edge of his eyes, Hajime could tell what kind of expression the Boxer was wearing: a look of utter contempt for someone who didn't know their place.

"I'll give you props, kid," Juzo yielded, fixing his hair and the wrinkles on his uniform. "You got guts, but no talent." His eyes trailed over Hajime's pathetic form. "Word of advice: Just follow the rules and stay in the Reserve Course. The Main Course is no place for you."

"…That's wrong …"

"Hm?"

Hajime's head snapped upwards, his green eyes gleaming with retaliation. Even if he had no concrete proof, even if there was evidence, he just knew Juzo Sakakura was wrong. **He was wrong.**

"That's wrong! I _do_ belong here!"

Juzo glared at him, teeth grinding together in irritation. Munakata and Chisa always said that he never had patience. And here he was, about to prove them right. Again.

"Why, you—"

Juzo lifted his leg about to kick Hajime while he was down, however a swift figure came between him and the Reserve Course student.

"What the _fuck_ do you think you're doing?!"

You stood in front of Juzo, arms spread protectively in front of Hajime and a defiant glare on your face.

"It's…you?" Hajime muttered, struggling to get up. He only managed to stagger back onto his feet, weakly standing up since his wind hasn't recovered yet from Juzo's harsh blow.

The Boxer glared down at you, vaguely recognizing you as one of Chisa's students. He was the one that called in your vehicular incident last year, something about a rowdy and anxious Film Director that tried to leave the campus. He also caught you whenever you broke curfew for your film projects. But, you never listened to his warnings and just did whatever you wanted.

"Tch, stirring up more trouble, huh? You never learn," Juzo said in contempt. He towered over your, appearing to be taller than he usually was to the point where you wanted to just run from the terrifying head of security. But, you stood your ground, forcefully planting your feet into the concrete.

Without thinking, you blurted out, "What the hell is wrong with you, you asshole?! You can't just hit a teenager! You're an adult, aren't you?!" Juzo blinked, your scathing words seeming to be just as harsh and surprising as a gut-punch. Immediately, he regained his composure and took a threatening step towards you. 

"What was that?!" he yelled, face red from anger. Even if you were from the Main Course, someone he was meant to protect, it didn't mean you could challenge his authority. "Don't think just because you're an Ultimate, you can just mouth off to me! This kid, this _Reserve Course sheep_ , was breakin' the rules and wouldn't leave. I had every right!"

You shouted back, just as loud and angry, sweeping your arm in front of him as if to destroy Juzo's words. "It doesn't matter if he's from the Reserve Course! You can't just punch out another human being! You should be ashamed of yourself!"

"You've been nothin' but trouble,'' Juzo retorted, eyes narrowed dangerously. "Crashing that golf cart, breaking curfew for your stupid projects. Just because you were chosen by the academy, doesn't mean you can get away with everything!"

Your eyes narrowed in provocation and you muttered spitefully, "Says the security guard with more than twenty complaints of brute force. Stupid fuckin' pig…"

Now, _that_ was a low blow. The Boxer felt his fist clench, anger coursing through his veins and setting his blood on fire. "Care to repeat that?"

You met his eyes. "Clean your ears out, you. Stupid. Fucking. Pig."

Juzo pulled back his arm, ready to assault you too, but a familiar voice called to the three of you.

"Heeeeeeey, what's going on over there?!" You, Juzo, and Hajime turned towards the source of the voice and saw Chisa running up to you, face reddening from the effort. The Housekeeper protectively stepped between you and Juzo, the air thick with tension. Once there, Chisa immediately noticed the heavy atmosphere she forced herself in, the way you and Juzo were glowering at each other. And once she got a look at an injured Hajime at the ground, Chisa quickly placed herself between you and Juzo.

Despite the crushing weight of the atmosphere around the three of you, Chisa's desire to protect her students remained steadfast. 

"Mr. Sakakura, stop it!" she shouted, arms spread out protectively in front of you and Hajime. Despite the emotional situation, Chisa still had to maintain her cover as an ordinary teacher at the academy. And that meant maintaining an air of professionalism between her and the Boxer. "I think you've done enough. For now, let me take the reins." 

The Housekeeper looked at you and Hajime then towards Juzo, the puzzle pieces falling into place at what was happening. Flashing an apologetic look at Hajime, she said, "Hajime…I'm so sorry. I'll talk to Juzo about this behavior. And I can get one of my students to hel—"

The teenager sneered, "No, I don't need any help. I don't need your pity, either. Ju-Just…leave me alone!" Hajime turned away from the main entrance, hobbling to get out of Hope's Peak. A conflicted look appeared on your face, glancing between Hajime and Chisa until your eyes met with the Housekeeper. Sharing a look with your teacher, she immediately understood your intentions and gave an approving nod.

You nodded as well, turning around to follow Hajime. But, before you did, you spun around on your heel. With a tight disgusted frown, you gaze Juzo the middle finger and then began briskly walking towards Hajime's direction.

"You _little_ bitch!"

Instinctively, the Boxer was about to chase after you, but was stopped by Chisa. Her eyes burned with resolve and protectiveness, not willing to let Juzo pass.

"Stop it, Juzo," she said firmly. "I'm serious."

Juzo stared into her eyes, his own violet irises clashing against her calm green ones. It only took a brief moment before he relented, clicking his tongue in frustration. "Tch! Fine, whatever."

Chisa watched as you trailed after Hajime, footsteps light and quick. Even if she didn't know what kind of relationship you had with the Reserve Course student, it didn't matter. You defended him from Juzo and that had to mean something. The Housekeeper was skeptical about his friendship with Chiaki, but it seemed that Hajime was a good influence on the Gamer.

And maybe, he would be a good friend to you, too.

She only wished the best for her students. That much was true after spending an entire year with the class. It wasn't surprising to neither Juzo nor Munakata, that the Housekeeper grew attached to her students. Despite her strict orders to just monitor Hope's Peak from the inside, Chisa had undoubtedly become the teacher she was pretending to be. It didn't seem all that bad considering that there was little she could find about the academy's crimes.

Everyone was very tight-lipped about everything.

Pushing aside her duties as Munakata's spy, Chisa spun on her heel to give Juzo an angry glare.

"Juzo, care to explain what was happening back there?" she pointedly inquired, hands on her hips. Chisa looked like an angry mother than his beloved high-school friend, the Boxer thought to himself.

He sheepishly scratched at his cheek, averting his eyes to avoid Chisa's scathing stare. "Listen, Chisa," Juzo sighed, "I'll admit that I was out of line with that Reserve Course brat and that girl. And I said some stuff I shouldn't have said…"

"I didn’t hear the actual apology in there, Juzo," the Housekeeper testily said, green eyes narrowing in irritation.

Juzo clicked his tongue, "Ugh. I'm sorry for hurting your student and that Reserve Course kid—"

"His _name_ is Hajime Hinata."

"I'm sorry for hurting your student and _Hajime._ There, you happy?"

The dark glower that was on Chisa's face disappeared, now replaced with a bright smile. "Very much so! But, I would be even happier if you apologized them to directly."

The Boxer rolled his eyes at this. "Right, the next time I see the Director breaking curfew again, I'll give her my apologies."

Chisa gave a hum of content at Juzo's promise. If anything, her friend was a man of his word. After all, Juzo stayed by Munakata alongside her. For all his faults, Chisa thought of the Boxer as her dearest friend (and rival in love).

Sighing in relief at that, deciding to take advantage of their privacy to discuss their true objective.

The Housekeeper leaned against the wall of the school, tilting her head towards the orange sky. 

"It's been an entire year since we started working in Hope's Peak, huh? Time really flies," she commented softly, recalling how excited she was to be meeting her students. Despite her role in being a spy for Munakata, Chisa's eagerness to be a teacher in her beloved academy was genuine.

Juzo stood apart from her, stance softening when the conversation turned casual. "I'll say. Headmaster Kirigiri really didn't pull any punches with me. Even if I was a former student of Hope's Peak and an Ultimate, he started me out as a lowly guard. It took an almost entire year for me to become head of security," he said, remembering Jin saying that he would have been promoted faster if not for his temper and anger issues.

"Yeah and I think the researchers and the other teachers are starting to trust me, too," Chisa added. "I've been invited to more staff meetings lately, however, I haven't come across any shady activities Kyousuke mentioned." She didn't count the implementation of the Reserve Course and their ridiculously high tuition fees. 

That was… _normal._

Chisa frowned at that, burying the reminder into a corner of her mind. She didn't have to concern herself with the talentless students on the other side of the campus, didn't have the energy to figure out the big complicated mess that was the academy's elitist culture. 

Juzo sighed in disappointment, "Me neither. The higher-ups never tell me anything. They just say to keep enforcing the rules and to make sure that none of the Reserve Course students come onto the main campus. I feel bad for them."

She nodded, "But, those rules existed for nearly a decade, right? No one from the Reserve Course can come near the Ultimates unless they're accompanied. It's horrible."

"You know, I think I heard a strange rumor regarding the Reserve Course. I dunno if it counts as 'shady' as Kyousuke said, but it does sound suspicious."

Turning her head in interest, Chisa's attention was riveted on what Juzo had to say. "A rumor?"

He nodded, "Yeah. I never heard of it when we were in school. And it's…an _incentive_ for normal students to stay in the academy to take advantage of their tuition fees. It's distasteful and cruel."

"Well, what is it?" Chisa urged.

"If there's a slot open in the Main Course and if a student has talent, then anyone has the chance to become an Ultimate. Though, that never once happened."

Chisa's expression fell at Juzo's words, unable to comprehend how her beloved academy could be so twisted. She was grateful to Hope's Peak for bringing her the best memories of her life and granting her the chance to meet her two best friends. She followed Munakata mostly out of loyalty, but to also to repay the academy for her wonderful school life. But, the more she learned about the school, the more Chisa realized that Hope's Peak wasn’t as wonderful as she thought it was. 

The realization sat in Chisa's stomach like a heavy stone weighing her down and all she could do was mutter, "…I can't believe it."

"Yeah, I guess we never really saw anything since we were so sheltered by the school," Juzo said absent-mindedly, vaguely recalling his days as a student.

He was so wrapped up in honing his talent and the fun he had everyday that he never really gave the Reserve Course the time of day. But, now that he was an adult…

"Now, that we're grown-ups, you can really see how toxic Hope's Peak is, huh?" Chisa finished, causing Juzo to nod in agreement.

A hopeful smile spread on his face, however as he concluded, "But, Kyousuke's workin' hard to change all that. So, we gotta do our best, too. Right, Chisa?" Juzo asked, eyes shining with newfound determination.

She grinned. "That's right. Let's do our best, Juzo!"

* * *

You found Hajime hunched over himself and shuddering with pain. Considering that he managed to get away from Hope's Peak Academy, you were a bit in awe with the male's physical strength…You vigorously shook your head.

Now wasn't the time!

Despite how quiet your footsteps were, Hajime heard you from a mile away. Without facing you and instead cradling his injured torso, he said through gritted teeth, "Why'd you follow me?"

Your hand went towards your school bag, which held the medical supplies you used on Kazuichi that morning. "You look like you need some help."

Your words were spoken quietly, but even so held a resolute strength. A firmness that meant you weren't going to take no for an answer. It was an order that didn't seem like an order, spoken kindly. Hajime scoffed when he wondered if you had to use that tone when you were directing in order to get people to listen to you.

"Like, I said I don't need nor want your pity." Hajime's voice came out harsher than he intended, but he couldn't care less. A certain throbbing pain radiating from Juzo's attack erased any sense of politeness he had for an Ultimate. You were glad that Hajime's back was turned away from you because you rolled your eyes at him.

' _Men_ ,' you thought with a frown. ' _Always acting tough and then lashing out when someone shows the slightest bit of concern. Mahiru would have given this guy a lecture on being a gentleman_.'

"Riiiighhht," you spat out scornfully."Because pity would have made me follow you all the way down here to offer you help. If I felt sorry for you, I wouldn't have come and just sent you a get-well basket."

Hajime turned towards you, pained green eyes meeting your own. There was a mix of suspicion and caution, but he had every right to be. After all, a former Ultimate punched him out. And then, there was all the callous treatment of the Reserve Course as a whole.

Hajime's trust in the academy, in Chiaki, and in _you_ was wavering.

Ignoring your bitter sarcasm, Hajime croaked out, "...Then why?"

You smirked mockingly. "It's called being a decent human being. Search it up."

Hajime glared at you. "Okay, cool it with the sarcasm."

"Sorry. Juzo...just pisses me off."

"I get it."

Once more you sighed and extended your hand out towards him. He eyed the gesture wearily but slowly accepted it. Even with his palms raw and burning from his bout with Juzo, your grip on him was gentle and firm. Carefully, you pulled Hajime up and he gave a hiss of pain at the bruise that was no doubt forming underneath his uniform. You guided him to a red brick wall that bordered a flower garden on the side of the road. Carefully you propped him against the wall and looked for any outward injuries you would need to treat.

You doubted that he wanted to go back to the academy or to the hospital. You couldn't imagine the bad press Hope's Peak would get for having the head of security beat up a student. At least, you were a little conscious of how embarrassing it was for Hajime.

"Is anything bleeding?" you inquired, already digging out your medical supplies. "When I saw you, you were on the ground. Are there any scrapes?"

Hajime weakly lifted up his hands, his palms now a burning red and marred with thin scratches from the concrete. They were raw and he could see flecks of rock in the skin. "Here."

The male showed you his palms, wounded and slightly bleeding. You frowned at the sight, ' _First Kazuichi, now this guy. I may need to bring an entire medical kit with me to school, now._ '

"Juzo's an asshole," you growled, grabbing a bottle of antiseptic spray from your supplies.

Hajime could only give a forced chuckle before wincing as you sprayed some alcohol on his wounds. "Ouch! Hey, give me a little heads up before you do that!"

"Whoops, sorry. Well, I'm about to treat your other hand, so…"

He did as you said and showed you to his other palm, only flinching when you sprayed. "Now, thank God I got those big band-aids Mikan gave me…" you muttered, remembering how you ran into a light-pole a few weeks ago.

It was a stupid mistake on your part since you were too lost in your thoughts about a potential film idea. And you were so into it that you foolishly ran into the pole, leaving a decent sized bruise in the middle of your forehead. Thankfully, Mikan was more than happy to give you a hand and some spare bandages.

But, you could never live down how much Hiyoko teased you about it.

After gently wrapping the band-aids on Hajime's palms, he instinctively flexed his hands and found that the band-aids were secure. Slightly embarrassed, both at your act of kindness and standing up to Juzo, Hajime turned his eyes away from you. But, you heard his muttering.

"Thanks."

You gave him a smile of reassurance, "No problem. You're Chiaki's friend, after all."

After finishing your treatment, you smirked at your handiwork. Coming prepared was working out, after all! Once you were done stewing in your self-satisfaction, you asked Hajime, "Just curious, but why were trying to go into the Main Course building without Chiaki? You know that's against the rules, unfair as they are."

Hajime's expression darkened, the bitter memory resurfacing. "I…just had to talk to someone. It was regarding my enrollment here in Hope's Peak."

Tilting your head at that, you tried to recall your first encounter with the male. Leaning against the brick wall with Hajime, you tried to recall what Hajime spoke about. It was difficult to remember since you had decided to forget the meeting the minute you entered the dorms. What Hajime asked you about was…

"Did it have something to do with _Ultimates_?"

He nodded slowly. 

Now, you were caught off guard. The subject of the school's elitism was no secret, but it wasn't openly discussed by the students nor the faculty. It was a can of worms you didn't want to open yet had no choice in doing so. As much as you wanted to avoid the subject, you were the one that opened this line of conversation.

And if Junko's advice on being more confident meant that you had to talk about unpleasant things, then— _goddamit!_ — you were going to talk about unpleasant things!

"I see…If it's about your enrollment, then I'll take a stab in the dark and say…you wanted to talk to Headmaster Kirigiri?" you asked, raising a brow.

Hajime turned his gaze towards the ground, not wanting to meet your eyes. "That's right. But, apparently you have to be accompanied with a staff member, an Ultimate, or have an appointment in order to speak with him. And even scheduling an appointment was impossible! The secretary said he was booked for an entire month with meetings and conferences."

"He is a busy man, being the head of Hope's Peak," you said jokingly, a fruitless attempt to lighten the mood. "Well, then how 'bout I offer you some advice? Chiaki is busy with one of the underclassmen today. And I might not be the Ultimate Therapist, but I can at least lend you a listening ear. If that's okay, of course."

The male cast you a dubious glance, but you did help him out today. As embarrassing as it was. Hajime figured that you were a kind person, if not a little eccentric.

"Er…it's a kind of private, so you don't mind me keeping some of the details vague, right?"

"Not at all." 

"I…just wanted to ask the Headmaster for some insight. There's this big kind of project that I've been asked to participate in. There's a lot of risk involved, but a big pay off. If there was a chance to be a part of the Main Course, would you take it?"

Now, that was a _big_ red flag. Just what was Hajime getting into? He was such an ordinary guy that you didn't think he would have such a big problem.

Your brows furrowed together in tight concern. "Of course not! Being an Ultimate isn't something I would risk my life over! That's just plain crazy…"

"That's easy for you to say since you're an Ultimate," Hajime replied darkly, recalling his father's words. Your brow twitched.

_What were you supposed to say to that?_

Hajime sounded dead-set on his opinion and just wanted to hear an answer that he wanted. But, this weird (and probably unethical) project sounded dangerous. Even if you were blasé towards Hajime, he shouldn’t throw away his life like that!

Hiding your slight annoyance with Hajime, you exhaled to keep your emotions calm. "Jeez, you're just like Nagito, dude. I'm more than just an Ultimate. I'm also a person. And I'm saying this to you as a person who is concerned with your well-being, _don't do it_." You put all your determination into your voice, forming a definitive statement that no room for argument. You were right and you knew it. Hajime knew it.

The male mulled over your words, face stern with solemn thought. "But, if I don't do it," he began, biting his bottom lip. He bit his lip so hard that you thought it might bleed. "I might get kicked out of school...It took my parents at least five years for me to save up for the academy’s tuition. Even _they_ want me to do this stupid project.”

 _Jesus Christ_ , what were you supposed to say to **_that_ **?

"Your parents wouldn't want you to risk your safety just to hypothetically be an Ultimate!" you protested even further, moving away from the brick wall to meet Hajime's eyes. You couldn't understand, couldn’t even attempt to understand what kind of parent would harm their child. Family wasn't supposed to be like this, they were supposed to love and support each other. They were supposed to punish and pressure their child into doing something so dangerous.

There just _no way_ for a parent to punish and pressure their child like this—

Flashes of Kazuichi's pained expression and heart-wrenching wounds resurfaced in your mind. For a moment, you lost your grip on your cool and composed mask, the one you honed ever since Junko suggested it. Even if this act of confidence was for your brother, what use did it have when you couldn't help out another person in need?

"It's stupid, risky, reckless, dangerous, wrong. And did I mention stupid?!"

"You did."

You crossed your arms, pouting. "Good, then I got my point across, I hope."

Hajime watched as you moved towards the wall to lean against it, posture relaxed once more. It seemed that no matter how much he tried to reason, you were dead set on your opinion on the matter. ' _Even if I asked her for advice, I have to take it with a grain of salt. Dad said that Ultimates think on a different level from normal people._ _Ugh, but I can't talk to one of the Reserve Course Students or Mr. Tengan about this._ '

"Yeah, don't worry, I got it."

You didn't notice Hajime's lie.

* * *

Dust danced in the still air, warm orange light filtering through _shoji_ doors and carving angular patterns into the wood. The scent of incense was faint in the air and the smoky taste was on Natusmi's tongue. It was the twilight hour between her parents coming home and being let out of school.

Peko was sparring with an old friend called Orge from her previous high school. Fuyuhiko was conveniently away doing research in Hope’s Peak, working with the Togami heir.

The perfect time to execute her plan.

Natsumi kneeled at a cushion at the forefront of the living room, reserved only for Kuzuryuu Clan business.

Just like the outside of the estate, the room gave off a stifling air of rigid tradition. Behind Natsumi was an alcove, which contained the ashes of her uncle, known to be the strongest Kuzuryuu that ever lived and to honor his great reputation, Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu burned incense daily. Tacked onto the wall was a hanging scroll decorated with the clan's emblem and the characters for 'Kuzuryuu' boldly written on it. From the decorations to the garden outside the living room, it radiated an absolute power and class that fit Natsumi to a T. 

Across from her on the low table was an older male, dressed in black suit and a white dress shirt. He was young and inexperienced, but eager to please his superiors. He was a perfect pawn for Natsumi. Yet from the way he worriedly stared at her, Natsumi could tell that he didn’t have the stomach for certain crimes.

Fidgeting on his cushion seat, he asked her nervously, "Miss Natsumi, are you sure about this?"

"Of course, I am!" she snapped. “Stop questioning me!” 

"But, she's your brother’s classmate. Young Master Fuyuhiko would be very upset if you did something—"

"Are you talkin' back to me?!" Natsumi slammed her hand against the table, the sharp sound jolting the man in front of her. When Natsumi Kuzuryuu set her mind to something, nothing short of an army was going to stop her. He straightened his back as if she struck him.

“If you wanna prove yourself as a member of the Kuzuryuu Clan, you better grow some balls. You’re just...roughing her up a bit.” 

An image of Peko and Fuyuhiko surfaced to the blonde's mind. She ground her teeth together in frustration. Natsumi was just as talented, just as deserving to stand by her brother's side. She wasn’t going to be left behind because she wasn’t normal, she was the Ultimate Little Sister! Fuyuhiko deserved the best and Natsumi was going to be the best, _no matter what it takes._

Natsumi relaxed her jaw, knowing what card to play when in the face of a man with a moral compass (which was strange considering that he was part of the yakuza). "Consider this official business, then," she said with a clipped and professional tone. Her usual warm honeyed eyes were cold, business-like, and crushing, a weight on his shoulders that threatened to crush the poor man. 

“If you do this, I promise you a reasonable sum of money and a promotion within the gang. You’ll show that you finally have the guts to do some dirty work.”

Despite Fuyuhiko being the heir to the clan, it was the younger sister who was more cutthroat and brutal. Just like her mother, Natsumi was skilled in getting what she wanted. Cunning and violent, two of the worst traits from her parents all pooled into the youngest daughter.

The man bit his lip hard, eyes darting everywhere in the room, not wanting to look at Natsumi. Dread pooled in his stomach, forming a heavy weight that settled deep inside of him. If it was an official order from the Kuzuyuu Clan, so he had no choice but to accept. Besides, there was no telling what would happen to him if he refused. It was better to think that he had no choice in the matter, it was a dog-eat-dog world out there. 

"Mahiru Koizumi is an enemy of the Kuzuryuu Clan. And what do we do to our enemies?"

He weakly replied, "Crush them."

Natsumi grinned wolfishly, golden eyes glinting with violent anticipation. "And make it hurt."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a/n: note: Can you feel my dislike for Juzo through the screen lol. Sorry for those that love Juzo, but damn most of the moments I can dig up on the guy is him punching someone and being angry. 
> 
> Anyways, my friend basically summed up juzo's character in this chapter: "juzo 10 minutes after beating da shit out of hinata: we gotta do our best to change hopes peak :)" 
> 
> In addition, since I'm publishing on this New Year's happy birthday, hinata!!! have a chapter where you get beaten up 
> 
> Canon Notes:  
> 1.) The Reserve Course wasn't established recently. I believe in the DR3 anime it was formed like one year ago. In this fic's canon, the Reserve Course was formed around 10-ish years ago. Now imagine like 8677928821 angry former Reserve Course students and how much damage they could cause for the school BWAHAHAHA. 
> 
> Now the Main Course know about the Reserve Course mistreatment, but it's implicitly forbidden to say anything about it. Most don't like to think about the Reserve Course, didn't give the normal students much thought, or shared the academy's elitist mindset. 
> 
> 2.) Hajime was going to the Headmaster to discuss the Kamukura Project and like Tengan, Jin was apprehensive about it. According to the wiki, Jin has a strong weird obsession with talent which leads him to stupid decisions. I can see why HPA went to shit now.
> 
> 3.) As much as I love Chiaki, you can't just expect Hajime to believe just 1 person saying that talent isn't the end-goal. He has the biggest inferiority complex and all it took was Juzo punching Hajime out in the anime for him to become Izuru. So, in this fic's canon, Hajime is still hesitant to accept the Kamukura project and is just looking for a good reason to accept it. It's like looking for someone to say 'go, ahead, do it' in order to validate a choice you're hesitant about.
> 
> Anyways, MC isn't being mean or stupid per se. She's just doesn't understand Hajime's feelings towards talent and hope. (Kinda like Chiaki/shot) 
> 
> I mean Nagito would probably understand Hajime's complex emotions towards talent and hope. I dunno if he can help overcome Hajime's negative emotions, however. /insert Komahina agenda here
> 
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	12. The Unfavorite

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNINGS FOR:  
> \- Graphical description of physical assault  
> \- Mention of sexual assault, though not depicted  
> \- Emotional and physical abuse

_8:09 PM_

The phone screen lit up Mahiru's freckled face with a dull blue light and she sighed to herself. Sometimes her dad was just so helpless. It took her almost an hour to explain to her dad how to use the oven after almost setting fire to their house. Without Mahiru's mother, he was a lost cause. Despite this, she rushed over to her home the minute he called and fixed it up.

' _Getting help from his daughter…_ ' Mahiru mused with a disappointed sigh. She pinched the bridge of her nose, closing her eyes in exasperation. ' _Men, especially fathers, need to grow up a little bit. I don’t get what Mom sees in him_.' The subject of her mother suddenly brought Mahiru a bout of worry. As a war photographer, her mother was always in harm's way, always in the middle of a deadly conflict. The last time Mahiru heard from her, she was in an armed conflict in South America.

In comparison to her mother's job, Mahiru couldn't help but feel a little inadequate. Despite her title as the Ultimate Photographer, all Mahiru did was take pictures of people doing ordinary things. Their smiles were dazzling, sure, but…photography about war and armed conflicts was miles more exciting than whatever Mahiru could ever take.

Almost losing herself in depression, Mahiru gently slapped her cheeks, the slight stinging sensation bringing her back to her senses.

"Stop that!" the Photographer scolded herself. "Satou and the rest of the photography club is proud of you. What are they going to think by putting yourself down like this?" She took a deep breath, in and out, in and out. The chill of the night air brought a welcoming cold into her lungs, sating the worry that creeped into Mahiru's mind.

After calming herself down, she finally noticed how late it was, how _dark_ it was.

The empty street from the station to the academy seemed longer than what she remembered. A creeping tingling feeling formed at the back of her neck, the cold and judgmental gaze of someone watching her. Hastily turning around, Mahiru barely had time to register the footstep as a tight vice grip went around her forearm, bruising it as she pulled into an alleyway between buildings.

An instinctual gasp turned into a desperate struggle for air as a heavy arm went over her throat, pinning her against the grey brick wall. A gloved hand slammed her mouth and Mahiru could taste the leather on her tongue. Mahiru wheezed from the pressure on her throat and mouth as she felt her head slam against the brick wall. Her attacker pressed down on her windpipe harder and she felt her throat rapidly close, fear and adrenaline running through her veins.

She was going to die, to die, to die. But, Mahiru wanted to know who at least did the deed.

He was a young, not much older than herself, dressed in a black suit and fedora. Even if Mahiru was starting to feel light-headed, even if she felt her feet leave the ground from how tightly he was pinning her to the building, the Photographer strained her eyes to meet his gaze. The dark brim of his hat and the dim lighting of the alleyway made it difficult for the Photographer to see until she found the pinpricks of light brown irises.

In her soon-to-be killer's face, Mahiru saw fear and hesitance.

For a fleeting moment, Mahiru locked eyes with the man and she felt her blood freeze over.

"S-Stop looking at me!" he barked, forcefully putting more pressure on her throat. His forearm felt like a log, unmoving and unrelenting in settling on her windpipe. A new wave of pain washed over Mahiru, leaving her to feel dizzy, light-headed, afraid, cold all at the same time.

Through the web of sensations, she saw black spots at the edge of her vision.

Mahiru felt like her trachea was going to break, snap from the sheer force he exerted onto it. She kicked, flailed, scratched, anything to get this man off her. But, her weak retaliation meant nothing to her attacker, who just kept putting more pressure on her neck. She felt her bones threatening to crack. It was as if he didn't feel any pain, no remorse. All the things that made Mahiru think she was going to be killed by a monster in a dirty alley. 

Her efforts to attack the man slowly died down as her consciousness began to slip like water through fingers. It was so difficult to fight. And it was so easy to just let it go, to surrender to whatever was happening. The Photographer's hands twitched against his cotton suit, feebly trying to get him to stop as he more pressure, more pressure, more pressure. In the growing darkness, Mahiru felt cold like she was plunged in ice water, her limbs becoming heavy before she felt something against her tingling fingertips.

It was her camera, its reassuring weight on her hips.

Without thinking, Mahiru gathered what little strength she had and cracked her eyelid just an inch. Her attacker was red in the face from the effort of strangling the Photographer. Mahiru pushed through her hazy consciousness and grabbed her camera bag, hand wound tightly around the straps, and hurling the camera at her attacker like a club. 

"Shit!"

He cried out from the hefty weight of metal, his hands leaving her mouth and neck. Mahiru wretched and gasped, the air feeling like molten iron against her bruised windpipe. It was a welcomed pain as the Photographer landed on her hands and knees, shaking. She took gulpfulls of wonderful air, each blessed breath set fire into her lungs. She felt like a fish out of water.

However, Mahiru couldn't relish the relief of being freed. The man was starting to come to, moaning from the harsh impact of her camera. He wasn't trembling like her, and Mahiru didn't want to take her chances in fighting the man. He was tougher and she was injured, the Photographer wasn't in the state to hit back despite her mind screaming to kick him while he was down.

She hurriedly grabbed her bag, the camera inside undoubtedly broken beyond repair. That was fine. Mahiru would rather have a broken camera than be dead in a filthy alleyway. Shaking, Mahiru hobbled out into the street, the comforting yellow glow of the streetlights becoming her beacon. She needed to get away before her attacker came to and with the recovered strength, Mahiru went into the street.

In the dark distance, the Photographer spied a pair of headlights, rapidly getting closer and closer. She yelled, but immediately stopped when her throat ceased. It was like a stone was stuck in her windpipe, quelling Mahiru's voice.

"Ngh…" A feeble and weak sound left her, nothing that would catch the driver's attention. Mahiru tried waving her arms, but they felt like lead. Frantically, she glanced behind her and imagined the dark-suited man running after her. She didn't want to take her chances that the man was now on his feet, coming back to finish the job, the image of him now trailing after her, anger now replacing the fear that was once in his eyes.

Mahiru stepped onto the street, in front of the car and all she could see was a bright white light.

* * *

"Mahiru, are you okay?!"

Your loud cry echoed in the nurse's office, causing your classmates to look at you with a mixture of surprise and shock. Mahiru, one of the first friends you made when you entered the classroom, was lying on one of the beds of the nurse's office. She was tucked in tightly with the stiff white sheets, face pale and breathing labored.

Wrapped tightly around her head were bandages, clean and fresh. On her neck was an ice-compress, bright blue against Mahiru's pale skin. Above the Photographer, Mikan worriedly looked down, expression tight with worry and concern. Upon your arrival, she looked at you and placed her finger above her lips.

"Pl-Please be quiet. The patient needs her rest. I just gave her some painkillers."

You muttered an apology and quickly walked towards Hiyoko, Ibuki, and Chiaki who surrounded the Photographer's bedside. Hiyoko had fallen asleep holding Mahiru's hand. Upon closer inspection, you could see the Dancer's nose was red and snot had long since dried on the sheets. She looked like she stayed there all night.

Next to her, Ibuki stood stock-still, face blank as she stared at Mahiru's unconscious body. The Musician's lackluster demeanor hit you like whiplash and it made the entire room feel even more off.

Chiaki glanced at you and you saw the sadness and helplessness in her irises, now glazed over with tears.

"Some of the others already visited Mahiru," Chiaki explained, getting up slowly from her seat. Her legs were shaky as if she hadn’t moved in hours. Once she was stable, she gently grabbed you by the hand and went behind the medical curtain that was placed a few feet away from Mahiru's bed. Chiaki leaned closer to you, her quiet voice becoming a whisper.

"Sonia already explained it to you…I think."

You nodded, recalling the sickening details once you met up with Sonia in the morning. She was frantic and crying, Gundam and Kazuichi doing little to sate her tears. Once you calmed her down, the Princess explained what happened to Mahiru last night.

On her way back to the dorms, Mahiru was assaulted by some man in a dark suit. He had choked her to the point where she nearly blacked out, but she managed to get away by hitting on his head with her camera. As she was trying to get away, Mahiru tried to flag down a car, wandering onto the street to get their attention. Luckily, the car saw her just before running her down.

She was rushed to the hospital before being placed in Hope's Peak Academy, where even the nurse's room where it had state-of-the-art medicine and equipment paid for by the Reserve Course. You had to admit. When it came to the safety of Ultimates, the academy was top-notch in protecting their students.

"She did," you said to Chiaki. "Did Mahiru say anything on the guy that attacked her?"

The Gamer shook her head. "No. I might have heard a rumor that it might be the pervert that’s been lurking around the neighborhood," the Gamer replied. "It…sounds weird."

You responded with a nod of agreement. "Yeah, I mean thank goodness Mahiru wasn’t raped. But, if it was the work of a pervert, wouldn't this crime be…I don’t know. Sexual?" The words felt dirty and wrong in your mouth, the image of the Photographer—

You bite down the bile rising to your throat and leave the thought unfinished.

"That's what I think too, " Chiaki added.

Nervously, you stuttered out, "I-Is Mahiru going to be…okay? She looks _really_ bad."

Chiaki bit her lip, trying to find the right words to answer your question. "Mikan says that she has a bruised trachea, so she won't be able to speak properly for awhile. And Mahiru also has a fracture on the back of her skull. For the next few days, she has to stay out of class for observation. There's a lot of tests that Mikan and the doctors here want to do to make sure she's okay."

Your brows furrowed together in concern, a sense of helplessness spread from your chest to your limbs in raging waves. The only thing you could do was grit your teeth and clench your fists in frustrations.

"I understand."

"Ms. Yukizome is also investigating the perpetrator," your friend continues. "But, she sounded doubtful. 

A flash of hot anger went through you at Chiaki's words. "So, he just gets away with it?! Just like that?!"

She gave you a warning glare and hushed you. "Shhh, you have to be quiet."

"…I'm sorry."

' _First Kazuichi now Mahiru?_ ' you thought to yourself, rage settling into your stomach like a deep heavy stone. Your brain felt like it was on fire and there was nothing you could douse it with except for the heads that hurt your beloved classmates. Even so, you kept a cool head and tried to think rationally. Like Junko said, you had to be confident, not a weak anxious mess. It would help no one if you didn't stay calm and help your friends.

That’s what Hikaru would do. Right?

"Anyways," Chiaki cuts in. "I'll be dropping off Mahiru's homework and attending student council meetings for the next few weeks…" She sighed, crossing her arms with a forlorn expression on her face. ' _And I was going to start a new game with Hajime this week, too. And then Chihiro said he was making this beta-version of an AI I could play against…'_ But, the image of the usually energetic and caring Mahiru in the bed made Chiaki's stomach lurch. _'I have to help Mahiru as much as I can while she's injured._ '

You laughed forcibly yet light enough to ease the Gamer's worries. "I get it. Well, if there's anything I can do to lighten your load, Chi—"

"Actually…!" The usual quiet and demure Chiaki cuts in eagerly and you could see the happy glint in her eyes. Her mouth was agape in obvious excitement as she spoke, "Can you actually hang out with Hajime? He's been down in the dumps lately."

Your face froze, the blood in your veins icing over at her suggestion. The last time you spoke with Hajime it had ended on an awkward note and an uncomfortable walk towards the train station. But, as you looked into Chiaki's hopeful gaze, you felt your reluctance melt.

The way she childishly clutched the oversized sleeves of her uniform, tip-toeing to try and meet your eye level was too damn charming that you couldn't look away. Sometimes Chiaki's childish oblivious charm was enough to make you wipe out and lose all reasoning. If she popped up on your computer asking for your credit card information, you wouldn’t hesitate to type it in. 

_'Damn Chiaki and her cuteness!_ ' you cursed, unable to resist your adorable class rep. When Chiaki decided to do something, she gave it her all. It was both admirable and worrying. Remembering this, you decided to suck it up and just help her out this time. You haven't seen Junko in some time and helping the Gamer seemed more important for now.

Giving her a sheepish smile and defensively putting your palms between yourself and Chiaki in a vague attempt to get her to stop. "Okay, okay. Fine, I'll do this cuz I love you." You gently placed your hands between her and you. "I'll hang with Hajime unless I have research, of course."

* * *

"This has Natusmi's name all over it." 

Peko didn't know what to say. It was blatantly obvious who Natsumi's target now was and the only thing the Swordswoman could feel was regret and helplessness. All her years of training meant nothing if she couldn't do anything in this situation.

The target of her Younger Master's wrath was Natsumi Kuzuryuu, his younger sister and someone she was meant to serve and protect. But, Natsumi upset the Young Master, yet she was a Kuzuryuu. However, Peko's purpose is to be her Young Master's sword and shield—

Her mind went in circles as Fuyuhiko continued to talk.

"That dumbass! That fucking idiot!" he screamed, punching the wall of the _dojo_. The walls shook from the impact. Peko glanced at Fuyuhiko's fist, scanning for any signs of injury. However, his hand went back to his side and the Yakuza continued to pace around the room. White hot fury shown in his golden irises, face red, and teeth bared as he continued to scream expletives.

They were lucky that Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu were on the opposite end of the estate, entertaining a few foreign investors. When money was on their mind, the couple were a united front.

Fuyuhiko forced out an angry breath through his nostrils. He organized his thoughts, the forefront of his worries being Mahiru lying unconscious in the nurse's room. "So, Mahiru was the girl that Natsumi bullied in middle school?" he muttered. "What a small fuckin' world."

He paused, realizing something. _'I wouldn't put it past my little sister to pull this kinda stunt before. If Mahiru knows about Natsumi, then Natsumi is gonna be the prime suspect_.' The Yakuza felt a headache coming on about how he would clean this mess up. There were times when he butted heads with the Photographer, but he didn’t hate her.

Mahiru didn't deserve this and he hated himself for not putting the pieces together.

Even if every fiber of his being screamed at this injustice, Fuyuhiko wanted to protect Natsumi.

"Peko."

She looked at him from the corner of the _dojo_. "Yes?"

"Get me the man who did this to Mahiru Koizumi."

* * *

"Natsumi, care to explain this?"

The girl blinked.

After receiving a call from Fuyuhiko, she met him at the _dojo_ , half-wondering if he caught up on her plan. Her question was immediately answered as soon as Natsumi entered the room.

At the forefront was Fuyuhiko, who was glaring at her intensely, with Peko at his side. The Swordswoman looked like she belonged there, at Fuyhuhiko's side. A feeling of nearly overwhelming jealousy bubbled inside of Natsumi, but she grit her teeth and turned her attention to the man that was kneeling at their feet. He turned towards her, trembling with fear. 

Dark suit.

Young and eager to please.

Now with a bandage on his head.

_Dammit._

Refusing to feel like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar, Natsumi stood her ground and 

defiantly met her brother's eyes.

"He's just a mob character. Should I know him?"

Fuyuhiko scowled, "Hey, you! What's your name! Speak it loud and clear for Natsumi to hear!"

The man's head faced his lap, hand clenched and shaking. He mumbled something, but it was too low for anyone to hear.

"Louder!" the Yakuza ordered, an angry red flush on his youthful features. "You wanna lose some fingers or something?!"

"I-It's Satoru, sir…"

"Now, Satoru be truthful and tell us everything that happened last night. Lie to me and you're going to wake up dismembered in a trash bag getting dumped into the ocean." The horrifyingly specific death threat made Satoru shiver, only adding to the fear he felt from the Yakuza's gaze. Satoru swore he felt the air shift as Peko placed her hand on the pommel of her sword.

It wouldn't be bamboo inside that sheath. It would be sharp unforgiving metal.

"A-A few days ago Ms. Natsumi asked me to um…"

Natusmi's eyes narrowed into threatening daggers and her body tensed with rising rage. "Don't be a little snitch, Satoru," the blonde growled, appearing ready to pounce. She looked like a predator ready to devour the helpless man, an aura of animosity radiating from her slim figure. Satoru seemed to shrink into himself.

"Eyes up here, bastard!" Fuyuhiko ordered. Satoru instantly looked up, eyes wide with alertness and trembling. "I'm the heir to the Kuzuryuu clan, not her. You better tell me what happened before I make _damn_ sure you never live to see daylight again.

Satoru nodded hastily, screwing his eyes shut as if that could protect him from Natsumi's radiating anger and hot gaze.

"Ms. Natsumi wanted me to assault Mahiru Koizumi. Enough to jeopardize her position in Hope's Peak. She promised me money and a promotion within the gang."

The deadly threat dislodged Satoru's voice and he was more than willing to talk now. If either way he was going to meet his end (either by Peko’s or Natsumi's hand), then he was at least going down with a (somewhat) clear conscience.

"I-I didn't intend to kill her!" Satoru hastily added, body now twisting with fear. His eyes were wide and alert, glazed over with tears. "I didn’t want to hurt her! A-And I wa-was so scared that I…blacked out! I didn't even know I was choking her out until she hit me on the head with a camera!"

The Yakuza's jaw tightened and he barely managed to unhinge his mouth to speak. "Shut up."

"I-It wasn't my fault!" Satoru continued, not hearing Fuyuhiko. "I was just following orders You can't blame m—"

There was a whoosh of air and Satoru felt something cold at his throat. Peko seemed to have teleported by his side and was holding a sword—not harmless bamboo, but shining brilliant metal— at his throat. Her red eyes seemed to shine under her glasses. He gulped.

"Do you feel what Mahiru felt that night?" the Swordswoman asked. Peko hardly ever spoke in front of others. But, when she did Peko was able to render an entire room silent. Including Fuyuhiko and Natsumi. She talked with such a soft voice yet there was a resolute confidence to it that made others shrink away.

She tilted her sword so the sharp side of her weapon could nearly touch his jaw. Satoru lifted his head upwards, desperate not to let the sword touch his skin in fear of getting torn apart.

"Tell me," Peko continued, pursuing the subject. She narrowed her eyes dangerously, taking in Satoru's terror. "Did you enjoy the fear in her eyes, the same look you have now, you coward?"

"Peko, that's enough!" 

Fuyuhiko's order rang through the air and Peko slowly drew her sword back, sheathing it back in place. She took a few steps away from Satoru, though her glaring eyes were still focused on him with killing intent. Desperately, Satoru placed his attention on the _dojo_ 's floors. Looking at either Fuyuhiko, Peko, or Natsumi sent a wave of some strange psychic damage to him, threatening to make him black out from all the terror and anxiety he was experiencing. 

Satoru had to wonder what he did wrong in his previous life to be scared of a bunch of teenagers. Was there a God out there that just hated him?

The Yakuza turned his attention to Natsumi. "What the fuck were you thinking, Natsumi?!" he screamed at her, voice straining to convey his rage. "No, scratch that, you _weren't_ thinking! Mahiru knows you, she's going to know that you sent this dumb bastard to attack her! How could…How could you be so stupid?!" Spittle flew out of Fuyuhiko's mouth, trying to organize all the words he wanted to say at the same time trying to find any solution to this problem.

"Young Master," Peko said, voice no longer deadly. She only talked in order to protect Natsumi, knowing how much she cared about her older brother. It didn't take a tool to notice how envious Natsumi was of Peko. The hope of entering the Main Course. The tint of jealousy whenever Peko was ordered to go by Fuyuhiko's side.

It was a clear indicator of Natusmi's motive for this crime.

"She understands what hap—" 

"Shut up, Peko!" Natsumi argues back, expression contorted with misplaced anger and annoyance. "I don't need you to speak for me! Jesus, you're such a lame tool—"

"Call her a tool again, Natsumi! See what happens!" Fuyuhiko yells, taking a thundering step towards her.

Natsumi took a deviant stance towards her younger brother, stepping past Satoru to get to the object of her rage. "Or what? You're gonna cut my head off?!"she mocked. 

"Don't tempt me!"

"Heh, you have to reach my neck first, midget.” 

"Say that again, I double dog dare you!"

"What are you even worried about?" Natsumi scoffed, picking at her fingers in a nonchalant manner. It was a poor facade to appear calm even if her insides felt like molten lava. "Mom and Dad'll handle it. A little intimidation and hush money usually does the trick. It just means that I have to come up with a Plan B."

"…You're still not giving up?" the Yakuza asked in disbelief, mouth agape. Their mother's persistence must be genetic, too. What a nightmare.

"It's just a hiccup," Natsumi dismisses confidently.

"You're crazy…"

"Crazy brilliant!"

He sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. So far, the only solution that seemed plausible was involving their mother and father. With the power of the Kuzuryuu Clan, most of their problems could be solved. However, the thought of being dependent on the gang made Fuyuhiko feel sick to his stomach. There was just something wrong using the clan's power for this petty matter, like somehow this would taint the Kuzuryuu name.

"Seriously, Natsumi," the Yakuza began, drained of coming up with a plausible argument. It was like arguing with a force of nature, no amount of reason could deter Natsumi. "You need to stop. If you go too far, no amount of money or power can rescue you. Just grow up for God's sake!"

Something snapped inside of the girl, like a string unable to hold the weight of Fuyuhiko's words. She could hear the blood flow in her ears as she instinctively swept her arm, shouting, "Says the one who depends on Peko for _everything_! You're the one that needs to grow up, Big Bro!"

"What the hell does that even mean?!"

Natsumi scoffed. " _I'm_ not afraid to get my hands dirty. Some of us don't have a hitman given to us at birth. I didn’t have a choice, this was my only hope! I'm not giving up on the Main Course!"

Fuyuhiko opened his mouth to retort but the door slid open in the _dojo._ Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu walked in, irritated expressions on their faces. Instead of the usual Japanese garb that the couple donned, they were wearing formal suits and dresses. Mrs. Kuzuryuu walked in, heels clicking on the polished wood.

"What the hell is happening here?!" Her molten eyes darted between Fuyuhiko and Natsumi, but both children turned away from her.

Mr. Kuzuryuu stepped forward, taking note of Peko standing at attention and one of the newbies kneeling in front of his son. Poor man looked like he was going to piss his pants.

"You, newbie, tell me the situation before I gut you right where you stand."

Patient was never a virtue for Mr. Kuzuryuu.

 _'Two death threats all from the Kuzuryuu Clan and I’m somehow still standing,'_ Satoru thought, mind numbed from terror. ' _That's got to be a world record.'_

"Hurry the fuck up!"

Satoru hastily explained the situation, both parents intently listening. It was a rather cut and dry story, clear on Natsumi's intent and her crime. But, as Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu listened to Satoru a pleased smile began to worm its way on their father's face.

Even Natsumi was perplexed over this development, brow raised as she asked him, "Um…Dad, are you okay?" 

He grinned, teeth shining in the setting sun. It caught onto his canines and shone inhumanly, a true reflection to the monster that Fuyuhiko knew he was. "As expected of my daughter. I'm actually proud of you."

Fuyuhiko and Natsumi spoke at the same time, confusion painting itself on their faces. "What?"

Mr. Kuzuryuu looked at his son, grin dropping. The Yakuza knew that look, the disappointment, the shame. Despite being the heir, it was no secret that his parents preferred Natsumi to be the next head of the clan. The election that the other Kuzuryuu Clan members held displayed the same sentiment. If it wasn't for the Kuzuryuu Clan's traditions and Natsumi's rejection of being the heiress of the clan, she would have been in Fuyuhiko's position. 

"Natsumi doesn't hesitate when it comes to business and she's not afraid to get her hands dirty," he explained, smiling smugly. "She's inexperienced, but she's got the guts and skills to make a great heiress...But, as for that Mahiru girl. Leave her alone for the time being. Koichi Kizakura might be able to figure that we're behind her attack.

Fuyuhiko stomped towards his father, fuming at the ears as protectiveness stirred him to move. "She ordered one of our men to attack my classmate—that's nothing to be proud of!" he protested.

Mr. Kuzuryuu held up his hand, palm towards Fuyuhiko's face. "Don't. Speak."

Fuyuhiko felt his throat swell close as if on command.

"See?" Mrs. Kuzuryuu quipped, a cattish smile playing on her blood red lips. "The disappointments never end with Fuyuhiko. He finds ways to _crawl_ under the bar of my expectations. I'm really getting worried about the future if _this_ is who we're leaving the clan to."

Fuyuhiko resisted the urge to roll his eyes. The disappointment speech was something that he was used to, but the mocking malice his mother used pained him like a wasp's sting to his heart.

Mr. Kuzuryuu laughed, unable to defy the urge to join his wife’s cruel treatment. "It's amazing to see how Fuyuhiko would disappoint time and time again. I'm disappointed in his lack of respect towards our tradition. I'm disappointed in his lack of respect towards his parents. I'm disappointed he was born first. And that's just the tip of the iceberg with this boy."

Fuyuhiko felt like he was free-falling, his stomach dropping as if pushed from a great height and wondering when he'll see the ground again.

"Do you recycle you're-a-disappointment-to-the-family speeches with each other or do you come up with this stuff on the spot?"

Mr. Kuzuryuu became poised like a lion ready to strike, shoulder blade tense with silent rage. Fuyuhiko could see the slap before he even raised his hand.

His hand was harsher than any sword, faster than any whip as it went across his cheek. Fuyuhiko felt his neck snap from the sheer force of it, his anger dying down and being replaced with fear and anxiety. Defiant of the prickling pain on his cheek, Fuyuhiko continued to glare at his father while he biting down his lower lip. 

He wasn't going to cry. He's been through worse.

"I'm disappointed," Fuyuhiko started, despite the throbbing on his cheek. He could taste blood from when his teeth cut the inside of his mouth. "That the former Ultimate Yakuza can't control his temper."

Mr. Kuzuryuu smirked, almost delighted that his son had the courage to talk back. "I forgot to add this to my 'you're-a-disappointment-to-the-family speech'," Mr. Kuzuryuu said mockingly, looming over Fuyuhiko like a titan. "But, I'm also disappointed in you, son, for not knowing your place."

He glanced at Peko, Natsumi, and the stunned Satoru. Mr. Kuzuryuu's golden irises burned brightly. "Now, get out. This incident is over, you understand? One way or another Natsumi is going into the Main Course and that’s final." He emphasized his order with a glare towards Fuyuhiko.

Natsumi slowly nodded as did Peko. Mr. and Mrs. Kuzuryuu looked at Fuyuhiko, awaiting his response before doing the same.

"Good. Remember this, Fuyuhiko, the next time you take that tone with me," his father growled, pointing an accusatory finger. "You're just a disappointment, a failure to the yakuza name. You've got no right to talk like that until you grow a pair."

Fuyuhiko stormed out of the room and Peko trailed after him like a lost puppy. The eyes of other gang members followed him, long even after he was out of sight. The Yakuza could barely register Peko's presence as he imagined the day his father would eat his words. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behold this 5k word monstrosity of a chapter! mahiru is easily my best girl in the sdr2 game, but she's gotta get hurt for da plot.
> 
> sorry that the MC had such a minimal role in this chapter, but i gotta get the ball rollin' and flesh these characters out as best as i can. 
> 
> you know what fucking sucked about the dr3 anime? not giving some light on the fuyuhiko/peko/natsumi relationship. so, i give you two siblings that constantly make death threats and a swordswoman who wants the best for both of them. 
> 
> finally, you guys know the drill! leave a comment and a heart if you love this fic! ty!!!! 
> 
> Canon Changes: 
> 
> 1.) If you guys noticed the little tidbit I said about the beta-version of an certain AI (read: AI Chiaki), then you get a prize—a virtual hug from me!
> 
> The minute Chiaki (at the end of Hope Side) revealed that she was created because EVERYONE wanted to meet her again, I literally perished and not in a good way. 
> 
> Imagine having all these fun and colorful characters with various backgrounds and then have their world centered around a class rep. WTF. 
> 
> I love Chiaki, I just hate the way the anime treated her as this weird matyr waifu bait character. 
> 
> And since I refuse, refuse, refuse to accept it, this fic canon has AI Chiaki from the game be a sort of beta/unfinished version of Alter Ego made by Chihiro that gets plugged into the Neo World Program. This sounds way better than having an Observer formed out of the class' memories because she's loved by everyone. 
> 
> 2.) Twilight Syndrome Murder Case will play out more or less the same as depicted in the game. That means Mahiru is gonna interfere with the investigation, we're gonna see Fuyuhiko k-word someone, etc. I will be expanding on the after-effects of this case for "da plot".  
> tumblr: https://erinin.tumblr.com/


	13. Meet Cute

Junko shoved a handful of cash in his face.

"Now, stop being a little pissbaby and do it, you hear me?" Her voice lacked her usual chipper energy, now replaced with a forcefulness that caused the four Reserve Course Students to flinch.

The male, Junko couldn't remember any of their names even if she read the attendance record. All she knew was that they were in Hajime's class. That was the only important thing about this _despair-inducingly_ boring group.

He looked down at the stacks of _yen_ , all tightly wrapped with a white band of paper. Besides Junko, Mukuro stood with another duffel bag full of cash. Despite her silence and quiet demeanor, he had a feeling that she was intensely alert of her entire surroundings. Once he made eye contact with her, Mukuro sharply glared at him and he immediately turned away.

"But, why would we turn against Hajime?" the male asked. "He's just the kid that sits in the back and doesn't bother anyone."

Junko frowned. She forgot how sometimes people weren't easily persuaded with mountains of cash. Celeste certainly would have, but these were normal students. They had _morals_.

"Listen here, I just have a bone to pick with him," Junko says, tone casual now. "He was _specifically_ given a chance to attend the academy."

His eyes widened and the other students behind him shared a collective gasp.

Behind him, another male spoke through gritted teeth.

"Hajime Hinata, the epitome of normalcy, has the chance to attend the Main Course?! What are you talking about?"

Junko suppressed the urge to smirk in amusement, but continued anyways. "A friend of mine told me about Hajime. He was cherry-picked by the Steering Committee. It's all hush-hush."

The angry student turned towards his friend, grabbing his wrist. "Daichi," he hissed through his teeth. "Attending the Main Course was always our dream. Ever since we were kids. We even followed each other to this damn hellhole. If Hajime loses his spot because of this, maybe this could pave the way for us."

The Fashionista watched the doubt form in Daichi's eyes. "I dunno, Takeru…" He turned towards Junko, glaring. He lacked any real anger, however to make her falter. In a way, she was almost amused. "What's in it for you? And why do you hate Hajime so much?"

Junko shrugged, "I don't _hate_ him. I just find it…unfair."

One of the girls stepped forward, brows creased in concern and fear. Again, Junko could barely remember her name. "Unfair? Since when has the Main Course cared about us?"

Junko stepped closer, a kind smile plastered onto her face. "The academy may impose rules on the students, trying to separate us and all. But, I still care. You're a student just like me who wants to be part of the academy. My friend told me that Hajime specifically approached the Steering Committee. And after that, he was chosen to be part of the Main Course." She sighed, disappointment laced in her voice. "It's just….so _frustrating_. Here you guys are, toiling away to be part of Hope's Peak Academy and this Hajime guy gets chosen out of the blue."

The final female student, whose dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail, placed herself between Junko and the other girl. "Mika, you can't just believe her."

"I-I know that, Nana. But—"

Junko's patience grew thin with every passing second. Planting and spreading despair was a waiting game, but it was well-worth the wait. However, dealing with these mundane and ordinary students was no fun. Junko wanted to hurry back to your dorm room, preparing for the first game. You had good ideas now and then, providing her a basis for her plan. But, most of all, she wanted to see your despair.

With a new found resolve, Junko coldly said to the students. "I'm offering you a way out of this situation. A chance to stop being sheep and be a part of something special. If Hajime no longer has the will to be part of the academy, where does that leave all of you?"

Takeru looked at her strangely, trying to decipher her words yet coming up with no viable answer.

Junko answered for him. "A chance for anyone of you to be chosen. Hajime was picked by the Steering Committee because of his admiration towards the academy. They totally disregarded all the hopeful students that are _paying_ to be on campus. With a little hard work, I know that any one of you can be chosen for the Main Course." 

It was an obvious lie, Junko thought. No way in Hell would the Steering Committee allow a talentless student to enter. That was the heart of her trick, the heart of the despair she provided for the students before her.

The four were rendered silent. Junko's words had struck a nerve with them.

Both Takeru and Daichi, childhood friends, swore to make it to the Main Course.

Mika, the timid girl, was thought to be special and brilliant when she was younger. Now that she was older, she was questioning whether those words were true.

Nana didn't want to be a loser for her entire life, not like her single mother. She grasped the chance to be in Hope's Peak Academy like a straw, holding it onto it for dear life. 

Their stories were all the same to Junko. The Reserve Course clung to talent and hope like a lifeline, as if the academy's greatness could fill the holes in their hearts and soothe their anxieties. The Fashionista gave the students time to consider, but she could already predict their actions even before the words left Daichi's mouth.

"Deal."

Junko grinned widely, white teeth shining in the afternoon sun. "Nice, you guys sure are ambitious. I think with that drive, you'll fit in with the other Ultimates!" she cheerfully said to them. Nana merely sighed at this, but the statement made her heart feel warm.

"All that business with Sato and Natsumi. Now, this. I thought this would be a peaceful school life…" the dark-haired girl muttered scornfully. Junko's blue eyes went wide, something clicking in her brain as the female spoke. A neutral expression replacing her smug smirk. Her face was blank and she leaned close to Nana.

Up close, Nana felt a shiver run down her spine. It was hard to say that the Fashionista looked human. Junko lacked the light of humanity in her sky-blue eyes, which seemed more doll-like and empty. She looked unrecognizable for her magazine shoots, now an uncanny caricature of a person. Nana gulped nervously.

"Tell me more about Sato and Natsumi."

* * *

You hoped that you were scheduled for research today. 

But , no such luck. You hoped that maybe that creepy Ultimate Pyrotechnic upperclassmen would be working with you. You were interested in making some short films with his fireworks. He was known to be a real weirdo in the academy, you were positive that he was a serial killer. Even his name was weird.

' _Ted Chikatilo…_ ' You snorted. ' _What kinda fucking name is that?_ '

Your thoughts were cut off as someone suddenly stood in front of you. Looking up from your lap, you saw Hajime looking expectant towards your arrival. Flashing him a friendly smile, you stood up and greeted him energetically. "Good afternoon, Hajime!" you chirped, standing up from your seat. "I may not be much of a gamer like Chiaki, but I am at least familiar with Animal Crossing!"

He laughed at your weak attempt for a joke. "No, no. It's alright. Chiaki texted me about your classmate a few days ago…" The male's expression turned downcast, clouding his amusement. "I'm sorry. Is she okay?"

Your face fell at the memory of Mahiru pale and unconscious is the nurse's bed. "…She's in and out of unconsciousness, but she's doing better. They're keeping her in observation for a few more days and the doctors think she'll be good to go back to class."

He nodded slowly. "I see…How about you? There's rumors that she was attacked by the pervert that was stalking the neighborhood."

You gave him a small smile. "I'm fine. I visited her this morning before class started. She has a hard time swallowing food, but I'm relieved that she's doing better." You were starting to understand why Chiaki liked this guy. Hajime was a good person and a good listener. There were some things you couldn't discuss with your classmates, fellow Ultimates. They had their own ways of dealing with things, none of which would fit you.

But, listening to a normal student like Hajime was a good change of pace. He was…ordinary and maybe just a sense of normalcy was what you needed.

"Anyways, this is good," you added. "I kinda need a distraction from all this." You glanced at him, trying to figure out what to do with Hajime. Normally, your after school activities were limited to honing your talents: looking into new plots for short films, signing up for film festivals, watching movies with your friends.

You wondered what Hajime liked to do. 

"Um, so besides gaming, what do you and Chiaki do for fun?"

He shrugged, taking a seat next to you on the bench. "You know, normal stuff. Last year, I proposed we do something besides play games. She seemed confused on what kind of stuff we could do together. I didn’t mind whatever we did as long as we talked and hung out." A sense of unease swept over you. Hanging out with friends sounded so normal, but thinking about it now…you didn’t really have friends besides your brother and vice versa.

You were slightly apprehensive about spending time with the male, especially one that made you so unnerved the last time you met. However, you had promised Chiaki to be there for Hajime while she was busy. Besides, you didn't find Hajime that boring. Not anymore. Ever so slowly, you were starting to see him as a person with his own set of problems. Hell, you might be so bold to say you were friends with the guy.

Hikaru would never abandon his friends.

With a renewed resolve, you said to Hajime, "Then, let's eat or something!" Besides anything relating to films, you were quite fond of eating. Just the thought of having good food made you elated for some reason. You would have been good friends with Teruteru if not for his perverted attitude. He flinched over your sudden change of energy, blinking in confusion.

"Um…sure. You can choose, by the way. I don't have a preference for what I want to eat."

The giddy energy you expelled made Hajime smile sheepishly, wondering what you wanted to eat. _'Chiaki always chooses something along the lines of Internet cafes and sweet shops. I wonder what the Director_ _—'_

"I wanna go here!"

Nearly shoving your phone into Hajime's face, he backed up before the glass scream could smash into his nose. He blinked against the bright light but read it perfectly. "Gold Mountain…Ramen?" Hajime asked you dubiously. You nodded energetically.

"You see, I was talking about this with Teruteru—he's one of my classmates, bee tee dubs—and he challenged me to the Ghost Pepper Ramen. He said that I couldn't take the heat and I just _have_ to prove him wrong! If I win, he becomes my personal chef for a week and if I lose…"

You trailed off, remembering the punishment. _'Right, I have to send him a dirty picture. Ugh, I was planning on just squishing my forearm and elbow together, but it still kinda grosses me out.'_

Hajime titled his head down to meet your eyes. "If you lose…?" 

You vigorously shook your head, not wanting Hajime to worry about you. The day was still young and you only had a few hours until night fell. "Don't even worry about it, Hajime! There's no way I could lose. The Ghost Pepper Ramen, despite its appearance, looks really good. I gotta try it for myself."

Your headstrong attitude made Hajime a little worried. You seemed to be the type to get lost in whatever you put your mind to, whether that be film-making or eating. It was like you only thought about your goals and how to get there. A prick of jealously caused him to bit his lip as a voice rang in his head:

 _Don't you just wanna be special?_

If he was just as determined and bold, just as risky as you, would Hajime be able to be part of Hope's Peak? If he just put himself out there, was there some way he would be the noticed by the school? If he accepted the Izuru Kamukura Project would he have a chance—

"Hajime?"

You called out to innocently. "Are you bad with spicy foods?"

He blinked his green eyes, the doubt vanishing for a brief moment. But, he knew it would return. It always did.

"No, I'm fine with that. But…" Hajime cast you a doubtful look, "Are you sure about eating that ramen? I've seen people end in the hospital because of how spicy it was."

You laughed boisterously, attempting to lighten the situation and to appear confident. It was a cheap emulation of your brother's lighthearted and casual attitude. The Actor was always the sociable one with a charisma you couldn't quite replicate even if you were on the set.

"Puh-lease," you said smugly. "Didn't you say to Chiaki, 'If you just give it your all, then things should turn out okay'?" You made a rather mocking rendition of Hajime's voice, your tone deepening in an attempt to copy him. 

"She remembered that?" he whispered in awe.

"Duh, that's what made her take the leap and become the class rep. You’ve got a way with words, Hajime."

The male blushed at that, embarrassed and elated at your statement. He didn't think it was such a big deal at the time, but he found himself glad that he said such a thing to the Gamer. It was just normal to dive in and try things out.

You smirked, "Oh, is it just me or are your ears turning red?"

At the sound of your voice, Hajime vigorously shook his head as if that could get rid of hisf embarrassment. "Those words don't apply to you since you're _clearly_ not hoping to be okay! You're going to end up in the hospital!" he rebutted, truly worried for your well-being.

"Heh, it'll take a lot more than _spicy noodles_ to kill me!"

* * *

You were killed by spicy noodles.

Cradling your aching stomach, you leaned on Hajime for support. After being forced by the shop owner to stop, you and your newfound friend took you to the local pharmacy and bought you some medicine for your aching stomach. Each step forward sent pangs of pain in your gut, a subtle stab in your stomach lining.

With a red and teary face, you groaned quietly and stewed in your regret.

Hajime carefully supported you with his arms, giving an _I-told-you_ stare. "Just take those tablets that the pharmacist told you to take. You nearly burnt off your stomach lining, you know?" he said, half-teasing and half-worried. "You nearly made it before the shop owner stopped you."

You shoved another white tablet into your mouth and gulped down a mouthful of water, the blessed cool soothing your throat. You felt your stomach settle and sighed, lips still burning from your meal. "C'mon, I saw you watching me! You had just as much fun, too. Even if it nearly ended with me in the hospital."

The student blushed at this, but begrudgingly he did have fun. Not knowing whether you would prove this Teruteru person wrong or not was exciting. But, he was also enamored with your determination to keep going. Normally, others would have given up on the first few bites yet you kept going. It was fun to watch as much as he hated to admit it.

"Uuugh," you groaned, nearly doubling over from pain on the sidewalk.

He caught you in time and lifted you back up. "Are you ok— No, dumb question. Um…" He looked around the area and saw a stone wall framing the entrance to a small park. "Let's just rest over there for a few minutes before we head to the train station. I don't want you to walk all the way back to the dorms in this condition."

Feeling the burn in your throat, you gave Hajime a weak nod and followed him into the park. The park was small and quiet, more geared towards walking around than for kids playing in the playground. It was lit by lamp lights periodically spread through the cement pathway and the bench you and Hajime settled on was between these poles.

Gently, you sat down and released a breath you didn't know you were holding in. The cold night air mixed with freshly cut grass, already doing wonders for your gut. You smiled at Hajime, "Thanks. You don't have a curfew or anything? I don't want to worry your parents." A flash of discomfort shone in Hajime's dark green eyes, but it was only there for a short moment. You dismissed it as your imagination.

"No…They're pretty lax with curfews. I usually study, so I stay out late most of the time."

"Oh. That's good." 

A tense silence followed between the two of you as you struggled to find a topic to discuss. 

"So," Hajime spoke up. "I was kind of curious before…but about the stuff I said the last time I saw you—do you think that you can forget it? It was stressed out then and I shouldn't have unloaded on you."

You gave a casual shrug and grinned teasingly, "What did we talk about last time?"

He understood your joke and chuckled.

In truth, you were grateful that Hajime wanted to put it behind him. It seemed touchy and you weren't sure how to handle that issue with him. Everything you said to the male went into one ear and out the other. And you sure as Hell weren't going to approve of accepting it no matter how much Hajime wanted to hear it.

"Anyways, I know that you and Chiaki bend the rules to meet," you say, remembering that Mahiru and the others did as well. You vaguely recalled that the Photographer mentioned having a friend in the Reserve Course, someone from her middle school days. Rules didn’t apply when you were out of school. "Did you meet any other Ultimates? I mean, besides Juzo."

He shook his head. "No, the rules are really strict like you said. And I don't think a lot of the Main Course wants? To interact with normal students," Hajime laughed quietly, scratching his cheek. It was an awkward conversation, you knew to start talking about the inequality and blatant exploitation in Hope's Peak Academy. The school was rotten to the core.

"Oh, er…" You trailed off awkwardly, trying to find a way to maneuver the conversation into something a bit more-lighthearted. "You see any good movies lately?" ' _Good job, me_ ,' you thought to yourself. _'You're just got to take control of your life just like Junko said!_ '

If you were going to steer the conversation, it might as well be on a topic you knew well about.

Hajime blinked hard at this, clearly surprised at your sudden shift in topic. But, he decided to let it go. He was going to talk to Headmaster Kirigiri about the Kamukura Project soon anyways. He didn't need to burden you with such a heavy topic.

"Oh. I re-watched _Baker's Dozen_ the other night! I wanted to get to know you better before we met today." A pang of affection stabbed through your heart. _God, Hajime is a good kid._

"And I was wondering…Is Hikaru your younger brother? I saw him in a preview for another film." You grinned, perking up almost immediately. You loved talking about your brother to the point that you wouldn’t hesitate to call yourself his biggest fan. 

You lean closer to Hajime, excited over talking about Hikaru. Not only were you filled with sisterly love towards the Actor, but you were proud of his abilities and work.

Purely from a director's point of view, it seemed like Hikaru could fulfill any type of role he was given. The cool and composed villain, the snarky anti-hero, the tough jock. He played every character perfectly. The movie that Hajime was talking about Hikaru had the role of a chatty yet deadly sniper.

Your parents went to his audition, which you didn't find surprising. It hurt to see them accompany Hikaru when you asked many times to your festivals. But, well…you were the big sister and you had to suck it up.

"He is! Are you a fan of his work too?!"

Hajime felt a sense of déjà vu, going through the same thing with Chiaki when he recognized the soundtrack from the Galaga game. Inching away from you, he managed to eek out a nod. "Y-Yeah, Hikaru is a great actor despite his age. He was meant for the spotlight and you're made for backstage. Sounds like a match made in heaven."

"I know right!" you cheerfully said, forgetting your burning throat and aching stomach. "When we were kids, me and him used to make films with each other! He was a shy little kid back then, but he loved being in front of the camera. He always did his best in whatever role I gave him. There was this one time I caught Hikaru practicing in the park when my mom sent me out to look for him." Whenever the discussion turned towards your younger brother, you just couldn't stop your mouth.

You were proud of him.

~~You were jealous of him.~~

Ignoring the deep-seated envy you felt, you turned towards Hajime with a wide smile. "Er…What I' m trying to say is…That I'm proud of him. He doesn't need his big sister anymore."

He chuckled, not quite used to seeing you caught off guard. "I'm sure that's not true," Hajime tried to comfort.

"It is," you interjected. "He's having a grand time with his friends. I know that, but…It wouldn't hurt to talk to me once in a while." ' _What if Hikaru is embarrassed by me? He's going places and I'm the same person as I was when I was a kid._ ' Your train of thought took a dark turn, realizing how utterly boring you were in comparison to Hikaru. Junko was right. You needed to shape up.

_'Hell, even I'm embarrassed of myself!'_

You felt something move in front of your face. "You okay there? You suddenly got quiet." Blinking rapidly, you shoved your dark thoughts to the back of your mind. 

"I'm good. Uh…What was I saying before?"

"You were talking about Hikaru growing up."

"Oh…Yeah." Your voice suddenly became quiet, not liking where the conversation was going. "He's got a ton of friends." You laughed weakly, forcing out a smile that lacked all its genuine shine. "I almost think he doesn't need me anymore."

His brows crinkled together in concern as you looked like you about to break down and cry. "That's not true! I think he's lucky to have you as a sister. You care and support him. And Hikaru feels the same way towards you, I know it." He heard you sniffle, wiping at your eyes.

"Really?"

"Really."

You looked up at him. Hajime's words were heartfelt and you couldn't help believing him. Maybe he was right. A spark of hope formed in your heart and you beamed at him, cheeks red. "Thanks, you're a real life-saver."

He laughed, "No problem."

"No wonder Chiaki likes you. You're a good person," you said to him.

The student blushed heavily, causing you to grin widely. "It-It's not like that…I just gave her some advice. Chiaki was the one who took action." 

"Oh!" you groaned in slight exasperation. "Just take the compliment!"

Hajime let out a deep sigh, "Alright. Thanks."

Flashing him a brief smile, you turned your attention to the wide and open park. For such a boring and mundane guy, Hajime was alright in your book. There was something distinctively _different_ about him from the other Ultimates. You couldn't put your finger on it exactly, but you just had to say it to Hajime. 

"Hajime, I'm going to say something probably really cringey. But, just hear me out."

The boy looked at you with inquiry in his eyes. "Okay…What is it?"

"Even if you're not an Ultimate, I think you can really tell it how it is. Ultimates are grand for sure, but a grounded perspective is not bad once in a while. That's your own kinda…skill? Talent? I dunno. But, it's something that’s unique to you."

Silence overtook the both of you and Hajime was turned away from you, making unable to see his expression. Pursing your lips together, you had no idea if you offended Hajime or not. Damn, you hoped you didn’t. You actually _liked_ hanging out with the guy.

For the first time since you met Hajime, he laughed. A whole hearted-coming-from-his-soul laugh. The smile that grew on his face reached the edges of his eyes, showing how genuine your clumsy words were. You almost felt embarrassed by what you said.

It was a clumsy strewn together statement and it made your face feel hot by saying it. It was different from being your usual self, the one who was confident when you had control behind the scenes. You had to admit, it was refreshing to see such a positive response when you said that on the fly.

Still grinning, Hajime said, "No wonder Chiaki likes you. You're kind of funny."

You sighed, the tension leaving you like air leaving a balloon. Snickering, you said to the male, "Don't fall for me now, Hajime. I prefer my men to be muscular and my women adorable."

"Who said I was looking to be yours?"

Stunned at his retort, an offended look appeared on your expression as Hajime's smile grew at the situation. Unable to hold back his laughter, Hajime released the sound into the air. It took a moment before you shortly joined in his mirth. The sounds of your amusement echoed in the silent park, the reverberations warming your heart even as night approached.

* * *

"I'm so sorry, Mahiru."

Orange light filtered through the window, cutting strange shapes on the bed sheets and room. The Photographer gave a weak smile towards Sato. Her complexion regained its color and the ice-compress was no longer on her throat. The only thing that was different about Mahiru were the dark circles under her eyes.

"It's okay, Sato. You said that every time you visited," she said to her, trying to placate the sulking female. "Besides…" Mahiru averted her gaze from Sato, looking off into a distant space with a forlorn expression in her eyes.

"There was nothing either of us could do."

Sato felt her heart break at Mahiru's hopeless tone, a surge of emotions flooding her being like a rushing river: anger, sadness, regret, and fear. Her jaw tightened, teeth grinding together in an attempt to keep her screams inside. She wanted to throw the chair, wanted to rip apart the curtains, break something. Anything. But, Sato kept it inside.

She shouldn't worry Mahiru. Not now.

Biting her trembling lip, Sato felt her resolve harden as she realized what she had to do. It was a long shot to talk to Natsumi, to somehow get her to leave Mahiru alone. But, it was a risk Sato was willing to take.

Mahiru's green eyes went wide as her gaze shifted over to Sato. "Why are you crying, Sato?"

Sato gasped and gently touched her cheeks, realizing that she was crying. Hurriedly wiping away her tears, she forced out a bright smile for Mahiru, desperate to relieve the Photographer. "No, it's nothing. I'm just sad that I couldn't be there for you, Mahiru."

"Well, you're here now and I might be able to get out of her in a few days. Chiaki and Mikan said that they're going to help me too for the next few weeks."

Sato nodded, "That's great! How about all of us get together, if you're feeling up to it? I think what you need is a break from all this." She gestured towards the nurse's room yet her implication was the broad nocturnal incident Mahiru survived. 

The Photographer agreed, already making plans in her head to spend time with Sato and the others. She was desperate to return to her normal school days, to spend each and every day in routine with her friends and classmates. Mahiru just wanted to put the incident behind her.

Mahiru lived, she survived. She was going to be fine. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: after 10000 years, i finally write Junko into the plot to cause problems on purpose. this was surprisingly? wholesome chapter from me before i hit my kids with the despair. 
> 
> also, who doesn't love sexy buildup???? 
> 
> Canon Changes:   
> 1.) I mentioned this before, but I did say that Junko was going to have a hand in getting Hajime to accept the Kamukura Project. Seems very mastermind-like to be in control of things behind the scenes. 


	14. Faceless Masses

The first thing that Hajime noticed when he entered the classroom was the oppressive silence. 

Opening the door, the male felt a rush of quiet wash over him. Some of the students were staring at him, some were glancing, and some were avoiding his gaze entirely. He wondered what rendered everyone silent until he realized it was his arrival that made it so. Hajime felt their eyes on him and when he looked back, the students hastily turned away their eyes. 

He awkwardly went to his seat, near the back and just a few feet away from the window. Once he was moving, Hajime could hear the quiet whispers of some of the students. It intermingled with the voices in his head.

' _That's the guy chosen by the academy?'_

_'I can't stand him.'_

_'We paid just as much as him, why does he get to go?'_

Hajime was used to the whispers and stares. His former classmates at his old high school, after he paid enrolled into Hope's Peak, made Hajime the victim of rumors. It wasn’t anything he could handle and instead chose to ignore it since he was on his way to a new school. The current silent treatment didn't bother him. He didn’t even know their names, anyways.

Hajime took his seat, musing how even his seating position was ordinary. It wasn't a spot for the protagonist, it was right in the back and next to the window. Instead, Hajime was in the dead middle of the classroom. However, it provided a clear view of the main campus and that was just enough for him.

Ignoring the haunting stares and hurtful whispers, Hajime squeezed by the rows of desks before the teacher entered. However, before he could, Hajime felt his feet fumble and the weightlessness of air. He let out a strangled cry of surprise as he landed on the floor in an awkward mess of limbs.

His head painfully scrapped against the side of a desk. Thankfully, there was no real damage. It just throbbed as Hajime lifted himself up. Face hot from anger and embarrassment, Hajime's head whipped around the room to find who tripped him. A snarl ripped at his lips as he shouted, "Who did that?!" He shot up from his fallen position, eyes darting between their faces.

Most of them looked away to avoid his angry green gaze. Malicious snickers filled the air and he wondered why nobody was helping him, why was everyone just standing by? 

Before Hajime could find the answer, a male student looked into his eyes and he nearly gasped in surprise. In the deep blue eyes of his classmate, Hajime never felt such intensity directed at him. Hajime was shocked by this. He and his other classmates were basically strangers, the only thing tying them together was their enrollment in the Reserve Course.

The stranger smirked at him, "Watch where you're going. Any more accidents like that and the academy is going to lose their precious candidate."

Hajime felt his skin ice over, replacing the heat that he felt moments before. "W-What are you talking about?"

A girl reached out towards the blue-eyed male. Again, Hajime didn't know her name, didn't even recognize her face. She had a timid aura and the way her glasses slipped on her nose made the girl seem even more mouse-like.

"Takeru, are you sure—"

"Shut up..! Aren't you mad?" Takeru spat at the girl. He angrily gestured towards Hajime, "See, he doesn't even know us. You always thought he was an arrogant prick, anyways."

Hajime felt his jaw drop at this realization. Was that what everyone thought?

The quiet and timid girl felt a flash of embarrassment of having her opinions exposed to Hajime. She locked eyes with him and Hajime could see that what Takeru said was true. She turned away, absent-mindedly rubbing at her forearm.

Another girl joined the mousy female, protectively grabbing her shoulders as if to shield her from Hajime's accusatory stare. Her black hair was pulled into a tight ponytail and her brown eyes were glimmering with righteous indignation. Hajime didn't know any of these people, didn’t know what he did wrong. All he knew was that these strangers _hated_ his guts.

"You think you're better than us, don't you? Getting chosen by the academy for some secret little project and having a chance to enter the Main Course," she said mockingly, smiling without humor. "What a fuckin' joke to have the average Joe be the chosen one!"

"Nana," the demure girl whispered mournfully. "That's going too far."

She let out an ugly laugh, filled with nothing with malice towards Hajime. Again, he felt their stares and hushed whispers, mixing with the mocking voices in his head. Resisting the urge to put his hands over his ears, Hajime lunged at Takeru and grabbed his shirt. He pulled his attacker by the collar of his shirt, bringing his face close to his.

For a moment, there was a twinge of fear in Takeru's dark blue eyes. Hajime savored it, etching that terrified expression into his mind. "Who the hell told you about that?" he seethed, desperate for answers. He recalled the note that he received a few weeks ago, the mocking and feminine voice reverberating in his head.

_Don't you just wanna be special?_

The mere memory of it made Hajime feel powerless even as he clenched Takeru's shirt collar. Knowing that he was a pawn in some sick girl's head made Hajime even angrier and he roughly pulled at the boy's uniform. Takeru choked at Hajime's forcefulness and was about to say something before another boy pushed him away.

"Let go of him!” 

Hajime stumbled from being so roughly pushed, though he saved himself from falling on his butt. Another stranger appeared, face just as outraged as Hajime's.

Takeru's wide eyes blinked at the stranger's arrival and Hajime heard him whisper his name. "…Daichi?"

"Doesn't matter who told us," Daichi dismissed, glaring at Hajime with such intense jealousy and hatred that it nearly made him sick. "So, it's true, huh? _You_ , of all people, have the chance to be part of the Main Course. When _we_ paid just as much as you to be here." Daichi's expression morphed into one of pure disgust and scorn. Though, Hajime didn't know who it was directed to: him or Hope's Peak Academy.

Nana inched closer to Hajime, her inky dark eyes scanning him up and down.

"Is that why you're so distant with us and always look at the main building?" she inquired sarcastically. Nana’s voice was low and even, no longer sarcastic. It was cold and Hajime felt himself shrink underneath.

"Get over yourself. You're in the same boat as us. You're not so special."

Hajime vehemently shook his head. Despite how much it hurt to hear it, he still wanted to defend himself. "I-I don't think that! Like I said before, who's telling you this stuff?!" His voice strained, desperate to find the culprit behind this.

Ignoring his question, Nana jabbed a thumb at the bashful female student behind her. "You wanna prove me wrong?" she challenged. "What's her name?"

The timid girl stiffened from having all the attention directed at her. But, she managed to stare into Hajime's eyes and he could sense a hope from her. God, he was starting to feel awful when her face drew a blank in his mind. After a few more awkward moments, he saw the girl's expression turn teary and upset.

"I sat next to you for two years and you don't even have the _decency_ to remember my name?!"

Contrary to her meek appearance, the girl let out a screech that probably echoed out in the hallways. "My name is Mika!"

Hajime choked out an apology, but was cut off with a frustrated groan from Mika. "Ugh! You really never bothered to remember our names. Do you think that just because you were chosen, you're better?! You're different?! What's so special about you that you get to be chosen by the academy!"

In his heart, Hajime knew the answer because he heard it multiple times from the Steering Committee.

_You're wholly lacking in talent._

For the Kamukura Project to succeed, they needed a subject without talent whatsoever. It hurt to have his normality be shoved in his face like that, but for once he was grateful to be normal, to have such a special chance dangling in front of him.

* * *

"See ya later, Chiaki!" you cheerfully said to her. "Have _fun_ with Hajime!" You winked at the Gamer, causing the faintest of blush to appear on her cheeks.

"Yeah…But, you didn’t have to say it like that," she quietly protested. Smirking, you decided to put a rest to your teasing.

"Right, anyways. For real, have fun with Hajime. You and Mikan did a great job with taking care of Mahiru," you replied to her. "Take a break."

The Gamer smiled in appreciation at your words and nodded. "Alright then." She gave a small wave at you. "See you tomorrow."

You waved back and turned to head to the dorms to work on the projects you've put on hold. If you managed your time correctly, you could probably have a rough draft done and start filming in a few months. Something buzzed in your hand and you look down at your phone.

A name you didn’t expect showed up on caller ID.

 _Junko Enoshima_ 💋💁🏼♀️💞🌺

When you first met Junko, she insisted on using an abundance of emojis for her contacts. Immediately, you swiped the screen and put the phone to your ear.

"Hello?"

"Hey, girlfriend! Long time no see!" Junko's voice filtered loudly through the phone, causing you to move it away from you. She still spoke loudly, not even placed on speaker.

"O-Oh," you stuttered out, surprised to hear from the Fashionista after weeks of dead silence. It's not that you were friends with her, but you did text her a few times about her whereabouts. "Hi, Junko!" you greeted her cheerfully after recovering from the shock of hearing your friend.

Apparently, she went to Europe for a few weeks to discuss a runway show. You were hesitant to message the Fashionista, fearing that she was too busy. However, there were times when you talked about your 'confidence training'. Little by little you felt that you were starting to understand Hikaru. If only slightly. 

"Hehe, where ya surprised I came back to Japan so early? It wasn't hard to come up with a schedule for next year's show. I _absolutely would not_ compromise missing a day in Hope's Peak. I never thought I would be wanting to stay in school instead of ditching it, haha!"

Her boisterous voice rang almost painfully in your eardrums, but you were still glad at her return back to Japan. "Ever a student, huh, Junko? Anyways, I'm happy that you're back. Are you already on school grounds?"

Junko snorted with laughter, "Yeah. Actually, I was on my way to pick you up! It's been a while, but I've been craving some traditional Japanese food. Why don't you and I have a dinner date, Director?" Her tone was sly and teasing, making you shiver. Junko was a pretty girl, that was one of the reasons she was the Ultimate Fashionista. But, there was also an undeniable charisma and charm with her.

Sometimes, you had to curse yourself and your weakness for beautiful people.

Instinctively, you bite your knuckles to suppress the urge to scream over the prospect of having dinner out with _the_ Junko Enoshima. However, you kept your cool and managed to keep your excitement from leaking into your voice.

"Sure, that sounds great. Where can I meet you?"

"Perfect! Meet me at the front gate in 10 minutes. We're gonna eat in style!"

* * *

By the time you were at the iron gates of the academy, a black limo was waiting for you. The door slowly opened and a grinning Junko greeted you.

"Sup, Director!" She patted the seat next to her and you headed inside. The Fashionista was dressed differently, lacking her usual uniform-esque outfit. You noticed that she was wearing a bright red top and trouser set with a black belt, emphasizing her slim waist. There was no doubt in your mind that it was some designer foreign brand, but otherwise Junko pulled it off.

Even if you were the Ultimate Film Director, you weren't exactly used to the luxurious lifestyle. Due to your young age as well as being in school, you never had many chances to direct blockbuster films. The only freedom to pursue your passion was through short films and festivals. Sometimes, you were slightly jealous that Junko and Hikaru were able to exercise her talent so freely.

The limo was roomy, fit to house at least ten people. But, Junko was the only one there. You had expected Mukuro to be inside as well. Noticing the question in your eyes, the Fashionista gestured to the empty limo. "Are you wondering where Mukuro is?"

You nodded and felt the driver take off to whatever restaurant Junko chose. You didn't particularly care where you ate as long as the food was good.

Junko twirled a strand of her strawberry blonde hair in slight irritation. "Oh, I don't know. She's probably stalking her crush." She turned away, blue eyes narrowed as she muttered, "I almost feel sorry for the little guy."

You arched a brow at that. _'Mukuro, the Ultimate Soldier, having a crush on someone? That’s weird.'_

"Anyways," the Fashionista started. "Hope you don't mind that I chose a restaurant. It's a five star place that I've had my eye on for a while." You choked at that.

"W-What?! Even if we split the bill, I don't think I can—"

She waved off your concerns, crimson painted nails in the air. "Psh, don't worry. Like I said, this is a date. Money means nothing to me. Screw capitalism, anyways!"

You rolled your eyes, but were secretly grateful that Junko was paying. "Thanks, Junko. But, can you stop saying 'date'? Call it a 'girl's night out' or whatever," you said. Though you had no doubt that Junko was a beautiful girl and you were flustered around her, you wouldn’t say that you were in _love_ with her. It was just surface level attraction. There was something about her that didn't sit well with you, something that prevented you from crossing the threshold into love.

Junko gave you a cattish grin, showing off white sharp canines. "Ohoho. I never met someone that was resistant to _this_." Her hands gestured towards her curvy body.

"I'm good, thank you very much," you rejected gently, a peaceful smile on your lips.

She giggled and leaned back into the chair. "Anywayyyyss, give me the deets! How's your confidence training? Do you feel a little closer to your little brother?" the Fashionista asked eagerly.

"I think so? I certainly feel a little more sure with myself," you admitted. Looking back on your weeks without Junko, you were more outgoing than usual and were considerably more in control with your friends. But, the dinner you had with your family still laid fresh in your mind. Your parents’ insistence on being with Hikaru during his audition, especially when they never went to any of _your_ showings. 

Maybe you were just petty, but it still hurt to be brushed off in favor of Hikaru.

Noticing the apprehension on your face, Junko immediately decided to go to the source of your worry. Whatever made you hesitate clearly had to be a weakness that Junko could use. 

"What's wrong?" Junko asked, her tone sounding perfectly concerned. 

You hesitated before deciding to confide in Junko. She was a good… _friend_ despite the darkness you sensed in the Fashionista. Everyone had a dark side and it didn't necessarily mean that they were bad people.

"Well, I know that I'm not an actress and I'm not usually in the spotlight." You remembered Hajime's words, highlighting the difference between you and the Actor. It was a glaring detail that you didn't think you could overcome and the very thought made you anxious. "He was meant for the spotlight and I'm made for backstage."

You would never say it, but Hajime's words had cut deeper than you would like to admit. Talking about Hikaru now brought the memory to your mind. Lost in your thoughts, you didn't notice the blank look that formed on Junko's expression, unsettling and somewhat inhuman.

She fought the urge to smile widely at how things were just falling into her lap.

With eyes filled with pity, Junko gently inched closer to you. She hesitated to touch you, especially with your early statement on your feelings about her. It seemed to be fine as you didn't scoot away. "That's gotta be tough, Director. But as the Ultimate Fashionista and Hikaru's classmate, I do have a few words of advice for you."

You glanced at her, brow raised. "What is it?"

"It's not easy to be the start of the show. Believe me, it's kinda hard to have everyone pay attention to you. Hikaru is probably the same. One of the things that got me through is to take risks and never second guess yourself. Because in the end, it's your life."

Junko thought that her words were cheesy, even cringe-worthy. The idea of having free will was laughable. Without fail, Junko always had people dance in the palm of her hand. However, it seemed to work with you as a silly grin formed on your lips.

"You're right. Yeah, I mean, you're right about everything," you say hesitantly. You let out a sigh of relief as Junko's words eased your heart. As you visibly relaxed, Junko understood why she missed you: you were _much_ more interesting than the Reserve Course.

Beaming widely, she patted you on the back. "Atta girl! You know just wearing the best clothes isn't enough. It's the energy you exude that makes all the difference!" the Fashionista chirped. "Anything else interesting happened while I was gone?" She shifted through the conversation seamlessly, mostly to keep the discussion flowing. But, also to pry a little more into what she could use to drag you into despair.

You hummed in thought before recalling your promise to Chiaki, your friendship with Hajime. The days had blurred together into a haze of school, directing, and visiting Mahiru that you nearly forgot about the Reserve Course student. You wanted to tell her about Mahiru’s attack, but decided against it since you didn’t want to infringe the Photographer’s privacy. 

"Oh, I did make a friend while you were gone. His name is Hajime Hinata and he's in the Reserve Course, so it's kinda difficult to visit him inside the academy."

Junko arched a perfectly waxed eyebrow at that. The piece of info you provided sounded perfect for her plans with the male. "Ohhh, a boy?" she smirked teasingly. "Is he cute?"

"Ugh, gross. He's not my type anyways," you protested in disgust. No offense to Hajime, but you saw him as nothing more than a friend.

Junko wiggled her eyebrows suggestively yet let the topic drop. "But, the Reserve Course, huh? Friendships with the normal students are hard to come-by."

"Yeah, my classmate is actually friends with him and she introduced me to Hajime. We haven't hung out a lot yet, so I'm not all too familiar with the guy."

"So he's friends with _two_ Ultimates?" Junko whistled in appreciation. For such a boring normal guy, Hajime sure had a way with the Main Course.

"He's been a big influence in Chiaki's life. She started coming out of her shell ever since they met last year." Junko took note of that in her head, already planning things the minute you told her. She had time and patience, things would fall into place sooner or later with her guidance.

"This Hajime person sounds like a big deal. It sucks that your friend's in the Reserve Course. All these stupid rules is basically discrimination under the guise of protecting the students," the Fashionista stated, annoyance seeping into her tone. Though it was obvious how horrible Hope's Peak Academy was, it didn't particularly matter to Junko. In fact, it was perfect for the grand plan of global despair.

A ticking time bomb that would explode in the most horrible way possible.

The limo stopped and the driver pulled open the window to their compartment to announce their arrival. Smiling in excitement, Junko widely opened the door, kicking a leg out to exit. "We're here! Finally!" she gushed. You followed her, obviously out of your element in your academy uniform and school bag.

Junko was leaning over the passenger window, speaking to the driver before waving him off. She hopped away from the window, the limo speeding off. "I told him that I'll give a call after we're done eating."

You nodded and trailed after Junko into the restaurant. It's some classy Japanese styled restaurant, meant only for celebrities. You heard Hikaru talk about it a few times, bragging that he once ate here when he was working with a famous actress. He wasn’t as famous as he is now, but Hikaru caught the eye of the older woman with his charm and potential—or so he said.

Maybe Hikaru begged her for some food or something. He was like you in that regard.

The Fashionista leads you to a bar, the right side of it void of people. The restaurant was decently packed as it was early at night, men and women dressed so formally that you feel awkward in your uniform. It was stuffy and made you feel embarrassed for showing up so casually. But, Junko's bright crimson suit draws more than a few eyes, which made you feel at ease.

Taking a seat next to her, you browse through the menu somewhat uncomfortable. Each dish looked too fancy for you to eat. Never in your life had you strongly wished to be in a McDonald's.

After ordering your food, Junko excitedly turned towards you, blue eyes glimmering underneath the warm light. "So, while I was gone, I was hit with this inspiration bomb and I got to work on that script that you mentioned before," she says, digging into her pockets for her phone. She pulls up a document, handing the device to you.

"I typed it up on a document for you to see. Give it a look and tell me what you think."

You scrolled through her phone and stared at the title of the movie that Junko wanted to produce: _The Tragedy Of The Student Council_. The title alone was enough to intrigue you, causing you to continue to look through it.

There were sixteen students in total, each one from the student council just as the name suggested. It was an even split between boys and girls, nothing remotely remarkable about them. You enjoyed the tropes that Junko employed, noting that they almost seemed like real people. Like _Battle Royale_ , it was just a blood fest between the students forced to kill each other. Besides being in an enclosed building, there wasn't much difference between the movie and what Junko wanted to produce.

Giving her a questioning glance, you pointed at her screen. "I like it and all, but isn't this a lot like _Battle Royale_ , _As The Gods Wil_ _l,_ and _The Hunger Games_?" you asked her, eyebrow arched. In your opinion, the killing game genre was overdone and hard to do since they always relied on logic.

"Right, well I can share the document with you later tonight. But, spoiler alert!" She stuck out her tongue playfully. "One of the students masterminded the entire thing."

You stare at her. "What for?"

She paused, trying to find the best way to answer you. Yet the Fashionista gave a casual shrug of her shoulders. "They were bored."

_What?_

Squinting at her, you inquired another question before you could think. "They did all of _this_." Your finger gestured towards the digital script. "Because they were bored? Not only that, but they also brought weapons and had the resources to put these students in an abandoned building for this killing game. Is the mastermind a super genius or something?" 

The world was filled with amazing and strange things, you knew that. Even more so ever since you entered Hope's Peak Academy, but even Junko's production stretched out your suspension of disbelief. She shrugged. 

"Not everything has to be realistic, ya know?" she asked rhetorically, examining her red nails. "Ultimates are proof of that." Junko had a point there. Everyone in the academy was because of their great feats despite their young age.

"…Alright. However, if you're planning on shooting this type of film, you're going to need a lot of resources."

"And I repeat: Money means nothing to me."

'Must be nice being rich,' you thought to yourself dismissively.

"Okaaaay," you muttered, moving onto the other important stuff. "I could help you with making your set. And I'm good with camera angles and finding actors. There's a lot of talented people around Japan." You tucked your finger and thumb underneath your chin, already thinking of how to get everything and everyone together.

Junko smirked, "Don't worry about the actors and stuff. I have a few friends that are interested in the roles. My modeling agency has a ton of raw talent." You didn't doubt that. With her connections, Junko was bound to have a few friends here and there.

"Oh! But, you _absolutely_ have to help!" the Fashionista chirped, blue eyes lighting up with childish excitement. "I can't imagine making a movie without the Ultimate Film Director." You felt your cheeks heat up, cursing your one kryptonite—cute girls.

Rubbing the back of your head sheepishly, you flash Junko a shy smile. "O-Okay, but seriously stop, Junko. You don't have to butter me up to get me to help you. You could just ask," you replied to her.

She grinned broadly, the energetic smile reaching all the way up to her eyes. "Hehe! You really are a good person, Director. One day, you're gonna have some good karma go your way." Unbeknownst to you, the Fashionista was smiling for an entirely different reason.

Yup, she really did miss seeing you dance in the palm of her hand.

* * *

Sato slowly opened her eyes, feeling her fingers were wrapped tightly around something. It was soft, fleshy. It was only until she opened her dark irises did the pieces fall into place and she immediately released the girl’s neck. She was straddling Natsumi, the girl's frail neck underneath her clenched fingers. The blonde's chest moved with shallow breaths, she wasn’t moving, and her eyes weren’t opening either.

Feeling sick to her stomach, Sato immediately got off of Natsumi and scrambled to her feet. She wanted to shake Natsumi awake, call an ambulance for the poor girl. However, one thought went through her mind: _How was she going to explain herself?_

It had taken her a few days to work up the courage to talk to Natsumi about what she did to Mahiru. The heiress was ruthless and cunning, sure. But, worst off all, Natsumi was immature. She ~~wasn't~~ _isn't_ the type to admit to her mistakes. It was Natsumi's fault that she ended up like this, anyways, Sato tried to rationalize.

She just kept spouting off shit, blaming Mahiru for her inability to be admitted into the Main Course. It was dig after dig into the Photographer until Sato found herself on top of Natsumi, choking her to just shut up for once in her life.

She didn't even remember strangling Natsumi. Just a blur of anger before finding herself on top of the young girl. 

After taking a breather and facing away from Natusmi, Sato felt her mind start to work again. If Sato called for help, there was no doubt that she would be arrested and charged. And that wasn't even the worst of it. If Natsumi told her parents, that means Sato would be personal targets for the Kuzuryuu Clan. 

And Mahiru wouldn't be safe, either.

Standing over Natusmi's unconscious body, violet eyes conveyed the conviction on what she had to do. _'If Natsumi wakes up….There's no telling what she'll do to Mahiru. This won't just end with getting a scar.'_ She gripped her scarred wrist, vividly remembering the assault. Mahiru went through the same thing, but the key difference was that the Photographer almost died.

Next time, Mahiru wouldn't be so lucky. 

With a quiet and deadly resolve, Sato took out her school swimsuit from her bag, grabbed the gravel from the fish tank and placed it inside her. Hastily, Sato tied the swimwear and the stones inside like a makeshift club, the water leaving a mess on the floor of the music room.

Her heart beat against her ribs, a sickening rhythm that made Sato tremble in fear. Before Natsumi came to, before Mahiru and the others came, she had to complete a murder.

She dragged Natsumi's body to the wall before carefully leaning against it. There was a window right next to Natsumi and Sato knew what she had to do, who to use and how to cover her tracks. She was good at planning under pressure. She could see the line between A and B, the beautiful simplicity of having a plan to reach her objective.

Looming over Natsumi, Sato bit her lip and steeled herself.

She raised her weapon high in the air and with all her might, she brought it down on Natsumi's head. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> behold the combination of my winter depression, impending midterms, and burn out!!! there was a lot of ground to cover in this chapter, so this took longer than I expected. but, love wins out in the end since I finished this one time lol 
> 
> anyways, since I kinda lowkey love fashion, I wanted to expand more on Junko's wardrobe from time to time. It was difficult to find a character that had her unique sense of style until I settled on some clothing choices from Villanelle from Killing Eve. Today's outfit is (https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/villanelle-season2-1586963451.jpg?crop=0.837xw:0.837xh;0,0.163xh&resize=980:*)! 
> 
> Leave a comment and a kudos if you love this fic!


	15. Lack Of Empathy

Natsumi's ashes were displayed in front of her middle school photo.

The room was filled to the brim with Kuzuryuu Clansmen and Fuyuhiko's classmates. It was stuffy and formal, quiet with a somber melancholy. Natsumi's ashes were placed in a white fancy urn, the best that money could buy. Natsumi probably would have hated this. It was too formal for her tastes. Too quiet. Too boring. 

Fuyuhiko could only stand next to Natsumi's ashes with a grim look on his face. He looked and felt older, the weight of Natsumi's loss pressing on his small body. On the other side of the table that held up the ashes, Peko stared grimly at the grieving crowd. Her brows were knitted tightly, an obvious mask to hide her frustration towards herself.

Chiaki and some of his classmates had already expressed their condolences. Chisa had already referred him to Miaya Gekkogahara, the former Ultimate Therapist that graduated when Fuyuhiko was just a freshman. She was already awaiting his call.

You and Nagito walked up to him, tears glazed your eyes as you looked at him with deep-seated sadness. Underneath, the Yakuza could spy genuine sympathy in your expression. Right, you had a younger sibling, too. If anything, you probably understood more than anyone what he was feeling right now. 

"Fuyuhiko," you exhaled. "I'm so sorry about Natsumi. I-If there's anything you need, just let me know, okay?" 

The Yakuza bit his tongue, trying not to snap at you. He was done and tired of all the condolences and apologies. He heard it for the past week ever since he went into the Bio Lab and identified Natsumi’s body. He heard it from Headmaster Kirigiri, Chisa, Chiaki. The service was just a repeat of the same words, but from different people.

However, Fuyuhiko restrained himself and transported himself to his temporary happy place: standing over Natsumi’s killer with a bat. 

Fuyuhiko nodded. "Thank you."

Nagito was the next to speak, his voice no longer light-hearted and casual. It was a shock to see the Luckster lacking his usual brightness and self-deprecating attitude. Instead, there was a weightiness to it that Fuyuhiko couldn't pinpoint. Maybe the Luckster experienced a similar loss. "My condolences, Fuyuhiko. I…There's no words that can describe what you're feeling. But, I—no, we're all there for you."

The Yakuza gave another nod, acknowledging his words. Fuyuhiko didn’t like Nagito, not many people did. But, his honesty was enough for Fuyuhiko to like him a little better. 

You and Nagito stepped in front of Natsumi's photo, praying for her soul to find peace.

Fuyuhiko quietly clicked his tongue at the thought. ' _Finding peace,_ ' he mused spitefully. _'There's not gonna be any peace until I find the guy who did this…'_

When you and Nagito were done with your prayers, you gave both Fuyuhiko and Peko a concerned look. "If you guys need anything…" you whispered to him and Peko. Fuyuhiko didn't answer, but Peko did.

"Thank you. I’ll make sure to take you up on that offer," the Swordswoman said to you, a slight smile playing on her lips. Fuyuhiko's classmates believed that Peko was his closest friend and that she was just being a good person by being there for him. No one in the class was aware of Peko's relationship with Fuyuhiko, only seeing the surface of it. Nobody except a few academy staff members were aware of Peko's hitwoman status.

You and Nagito walked away from the ashes, rejoining your classmates on the left half of the room. The other half, the ignored half of the room, was filled with members of the Kuzuryuu Clan and associates. Towards the back, Fuyuhiko's mother and father were cradling each other protectively. It was the first time that they actually looked like normal parents.

Mr. Kuzuryuu was silent, but a few hot tears trailed down his face. Mrs. Kuzuryuu was quietly sobbing into his shoulder.

Even if they looked weak, no one would blame them for a moment of vulnerability.

Fuyuhiko didn't.

Peko didn't.

Natsumi wouldn't.

A bitter taste spread across Yakuza's tongue as he thought that. ' _Natsumi wouldn't,_ ' he repeated to himself with a humorless snort.

' _How would I know what she would have done? Natsumi's dead_.'

The next people that came up to Fuyuhiko were Mahiru, Hiyoko, Mahiru, and Ibuki. He had a sneaking suspicion that Mahiru had something to do with Natsumi. Hell, Fuyuhiko couldn't blame her if the Photographer decided to get even. But, when she approached Natsumi's ashes, his suspicions instantly disappeared.

Mahiru was crying hard, her face puffy and red. Hiyoko was donning a black kimono, her expression just as sad and forlorn as Mahiru's. Ibuki and Mikan were openly sobbing. The Musician dabbed at her eyes with tissue while Mikan used her hands to wipe away the tears. Fuyuhiko stared at the four girls, trying to find any hints of overreaction or underreaction. However, they grieved appropriately, their tears and sadness were natural. 

Mahiru was able to speak through sobs, the grief seeping into his stuttering voice. "F-Fuyuhiko, I-I'm sorry for you-your loss…" Her choked sobs interrupted her, but Mahiru plowed on. "We'll be there for you if you help…okay? Don't hesitate to call any of us."

"Yeah," Hiyoko quipped, blowing her nose into a tissue. "Every-Everyone knows that you're too stupid to ask for help." She turned away from Fuyuhiko, cheeks reddening from tears and embarrassment. "And you might have heard this a thousand times already, but we're there for you, you don't have to go through th-this alone."

Usually, Fuyuhiko would have gone off on her, but he was too drained for that. Besides, there was no malice in the Dancer's tone.

The four girls walked up to Natsumi's ashes, their hands clasped together in prayer. Peko and Fuyuhiko shared a look. The Swordswoman had her suspicions about Mahiru, but after seeing her display of grief there was no doubt in her mind: Mahiru Koizumi did _not_ murder Natsumi. The Photographer was too soft-hearted, too kind to commit such a crime.

Observing Mahiru's actions, Fuyuhiko decided that even if the Photographer wasn't the culprit, she definitely had some connection to Natsumi's death. Even if Fuyuhiko was aggressive in nature, he was still the Ultimate Yakuza. A leader doesn’t recklessly charge into things (that was Natsumi’s style) and he already made plans to investigate his sister’s death. 

The minute Natsumi was found in the music room, Hope's Peak Academy was already working on sweeping her death under the rug. No reporters, no social media exposure. All the students, Main and Reserve Course, were forbidden from talking about it. If there was even a rumor about it, it would lead to suspension. The most that the academy did was have the mental health counselors ready and willing to talk to any student about their grief. 

When Fuyuhiko heard that, he resisted the urge to go up to the Headmaster's office and smash his face in. Even if Natsumi was just a Reserve Course student, it didn't mean that her life was any less worthy, any less loved, any less unique than an Ultimate. Fuyuhiko could never forgive the school for this and he resolved to find some way to make Natsumi's death mean something.

Once the four girls were done with their prayers, Mahiru approached him. She wasn't flocked by the others and shared a forlorn look with Fuyuhiko. "I know you're probably tired of hearing this, but I'm sorry for your loss, Fuyuhiko. Really. I wish…I wish that I could turn back time."

A deep sadness permeated Mahiru's tone, the somber energy of it making Fuyuhiko sadder. He took a mental note of Mahiru. The Yakuza knew with every fiber of his being that she had something to do with Natsumi's death. Gritting his teeth, Fuyuhiko nodded stiffly. He was afraid that if he opened his mouth, he was going to start yelling at her for some answers.

With that, Mahiru and the others went back to the room. The funeral was nearing its end and Fuyuhiko turned his gaze towards his grieving parents. Mrs. Kuzuryuu was hugging his father, shoulders quaking with muffled sobs. The Yakuza met the eyes of his father.

There was a burning, intense hatred in them. Fuyuhiko felt his skin lit on fire at the malice in them. But, he knew that the emotion wasn't directed at him. For once in his life, Mr. Kuzuryuu wasn't angry at him.

He was angry at Natsumi's murderer.

* * *

The funeral was beginning to quiet down and the room was now empty. Everyone had left for dinner in another part of the Kuzuryuu estate.

All that was left was Fuyuhiko, Peko, and Natusmi.

Fuyuhiko and Peko kneeled in front of the ashes. Peko had her eyes trained on her lap. Fuyuhiko was staring straight at the smiling photo of Natsumi. Her smile was confident and bright, not a hint of malice was shown. Staring back at him was Natsumi Kuzuryuu, his little sister.

"Young Master." Peko's voice cut through the still air. He glanced at her and noticed that her hands were clenched tightly and trembled. "What shall you do?" The question hung in the air. She already knew what he was planning.

"You know the policy," Fuyuhiko said stiffly. "An eye for an eye. A life for a life." The implication was as clear as day and Peko already understood what she had to do. As her Young Master's sword, his tool, there was only one thing she needed to do.

"Understood. So, you’re planning on investigating Miss Natsumi's death. Despite the academy already telling us that they were already looking into the matter."

The Yakuza sharply turned at her, eyes glaring. "Do you fuckin' trust the school to investigate Natsumi's murder?" he whispered harshly, snapping at the mention of Hope's Peak Academy. "After they told everyone not to talk about it? Fuck that shit."

He talked to Headmaster Kirigiri about the investigation and apparently the Ultimate Detective was going to handle it. Which made matters even worse for Fuyuhiko. Why was the academy going to send on of their own to look into the matter? It would just make it easier to hide evidence. Fuyuhiko was left no choice but to find the truth himself. The Headmaster argued against it, something about a biased investigation—which really got a laugh from him.

Peko nodded again. "We're conducting an independent investigation. And I assume that you want to keep our classmates out of it."

"Of course—decent people shouldn't be involved with this."

"Wow, a jerk with a heart of gold! I love that trope."

Fuyuhiko and Peko turned their heads to the room's entrance. She was a familiar face, a face only seen on glossy magazines and television screens. Standing tall and proud was Junko Enoshima, dressed in a black high-neck gown. It looked over-the-top yet strangely in tune for the mourning occasion. It trailed after Junko in soft satin waves, as if the skirt posed no trouble to her at all. Her blonde hair, styled in their usual pigtails, contrasted with her dress that brought out a certain charm that Fuyuhiko and Peko couldn't turn away from. Despite her melancholic appearance, Junko didn't seem the least bit apologetic nor mournful.

Junko walked in, the clicking of her heels drilling itself into Fuyuhiko's head. He glared, feeling the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. He's been through enough danger to know when someone malicious came in and Junko Enoshima was ringing all kinds of his alarms in his head. Even Peko had her hand on her sword, ready for a fight.

"What the hell are you doing here? Did you know my sister?" the Yakuza inquired coldly.

She stopped a few feet away from Fuyuhiko and Peko, crossing her arms. "Ever the yakuza, aren't you? I'm just here to give my respects. A student's life was lost, after all," she replied with fake sympathy. "Besides, I'm here to give you a true lead on your sister's killer."

His breath hitched and his pulse raced at her words. Fuyuhiko fell for Junko hook, line, and sinker. He took a bold step towards the Fashionista and despite the height difference, his anger more than making up for it. "Don't fuck with me! If you're lying to me, I'll cut you down where you stand!"

Junko laughed— _actually_ laughed in front of him. "Don't you mean your _hired sword_ will cut me down?" The audacity was enough to make Peko rush towards the Fashionista, aiming for her head. However her bamboo sword was met with a serrated survival knife. Another stranger came to protect Junko, a slight girl with dark hair and freckles sprinkled all over her face. Grey eyes coldly regarded Peko before she pushed her off.

Peko fell back, but kept her sword ready.

"Chillax, big boy," the Fashionista shot back. "I'm not here to pour salt into your wounds. I understand the pain you're going through. I would be in utter despair if _my_ sister died." The dark haired girl looked at Junko, awe and love apparent in her grey irises. She looked like she was on the verge of tears. It almost made Fuyuhiko recoil in disgust.

"J-Junko…"

"Oh, shut up, you pig. Not everything is about you," the Fashionista sneered in disgust before turning her attention back to Fuyuhiko. "Anyways, use your brain and the culprit of this case will become clear." A blank look crossed Junko's expression, unsettling and cold in how alien it appeared.

"Give it your best shot."

Fuyuhiko felt a cold sweat all over his body, making his clenched hands slippery. He had no idea what this girl was doing, but the need to find Natsumi's killer overrode his rational mind. "Don't tell me, was it really Mahiru who did it?"

Junko frowned and formed an 'X' with her arms. "Bzzzt! Wrong! She doesn't have the balls to kill in cold blood. She loves to hide behind a camera, after all," she said, looking at her red fake nails. It unsettled him how much Junko knew things. But, looking into Hope's Peak Academy alumni was easy as typing a search into Google. Things were never private anymore.

Looking up from her nails, Junko cast him a small and dangerous smile. "But, her Reserve Course girlfriend is another story." The Fashionista paused in thought trying to remember her name. "God, what was her name? It was so common…Suzuki? Yamada? No…Oh!" She snapped her fingers.

"Sato! Her name is Sato!"

The name was somewhat familiar to him, maybe Natsumi mentioned a Sato before. He didn't know, but Fuyuhiko clung to that name like a lifeline. ' _Sato…_ ' he swallowed, etching the name into his mind. She was a person of interest, not necessarily a suspect. After all, who would believe a supermodel crashing a funeral and revealing their sibling's killer?

Fuyuhiko snapped out of his daze and he glared at Junko. She smirked in response, laughing in her head. It was like a little kitten pretending it was a lion.

"Why are you telling me this and why should I believe you?"

Junko expected this question, but it was still boring to hear it. Sighing, she crossed her arms, a dull expression on her face. If she pretended to be a saint, that would make Fuyuhiko all the more suspicious. The best choice was to play on his grief. "You don't hafta believe me. It's fine. I just thought that her murder was the most interesting thing to happen since the year started."

"Don't play games," Peko growled at her. "Miss Natsumi's life was lost and you—"

"It doesn't change the fact that Natsumi is dead," Junko cuts in harshly, glaring at Peko. "It doesn't change the fact that the academy is covering up her death and the truth. And it doesn't change the fact that Sato is her killer."

The room was rendered silent by her words. Despite how cruel they were, it was the cold hard truth of the case. Junko's obnoxious attitude was irritating and it made Fuyuhiko instantly dislike her, but the Fashionista was smarter than she let on. And for the time being, her words were the only starting point he had.

"It doesn't change the fact that I still need to punish Natsumi's murderer," he muttered, yielding to all of Junko’s points. Peko's head sharply turned towards him, her heart stopping for a moment at his words.

"Y-Young Master, I will lend you all my services in your investigation. That goes without saying that I will be your sword," she hastily said to him. "That's my purpose after all!” Desperation leaked into Peko’s voice, undermining the confidence she had in her words. 

Fuyuhiko looked at her, grief and conflict congregating like a storm in his gold gaze. "Peko, you don't have to do that. I got this," he weakly protested, not having the energy to deal with this right now

He exhaled, trying to gather himself from the starling revelation, sorrow, and hot anger inside of him.

Junko's eyes darted between Peko and Fuyuhiko, repressing the urge to beam widely. She already knew how close the pair was, which made it easier for despair to spread. She made a note to herself to observe how these two will drag each other to despair. It would be an interesting sight to see Fuyuhiko and Peko molded in her image.

The Yakuza stared into Junko's eyes, causing her to shiver from how much untapped despair was inside of them.

"There's no choice to make here. I already made up my mind."

* * *

By the time the service was over and everyone left the room, Fuyuhiko and Peko stood in front of the grieving Kuzuryuu couple.

Mrs. Kuzuryuu dressed in a dark kimono dabbed at her eyes, losing all her femme fatale charm. She looked like any other mourning mother. Fuyuhiko found it morbidly amusing that _now_ was the time his mother seemed like a real parent.

Besides her, Mr. Kuzuryuu didn't look all that different: he still glared at Fuyuhiko, face tight with neutrality. But, his father's jaw was tight, tendons showing as he tried to restrain from yelling.

"Son, it goes without saying that you know what to do. Right?"

Despite the heaviness of Mr. Kuzuryuu's voice, Fuyuhiko didn't care. He already made his mind about it, already had a plan to get around the red tape the academy set around Natsumi's murder. All he needed was the manpower, something the Kuzuryuu Clan could easily provide.

"Of course, I do," Fuyuhiko replied, just as cold as his father. "An eye for an eye. A life for a life."

Mr. Kuzuryuu gravely nodded. "That's right. You're the head of the Clan. Anything you need, it's yours. Men, weapons, money, anything. Show me you have the _balls_ to actually lead."

The Yakuza was already lost in his mind, wondering if he should tell them about Junko's words, but kept his mouth shut. Fuyuhiko didn't believe Junko, not quite yet. He wanted cold hard proof that it was Sato and if it wasn't then all Fuyuhiko did was snuff out someone who didn't deserve it. 

"I will."

"Everyone in the Clan knows that some random pervert would be able to kill Natsumi. She was tough, smart. She would have fought." Mr. Kuzuryuu continued to speak, his voice breaking away like eroding rocks. Slowly, but surely he was losing his cool as he spoke about his deceased daughter. "She would have taken a piece of him. She…"

"Natusmi wouldn't lose to some random peeping tom." Mrs. Kuzuryuu spoke up for the first time. She looked horrible, make-up no longer adorning her features. Her eyes were red and puffy yet Fuyuhiko could sense the sadness inside of them. But, underneath that sorrow there was the burning desire for vengeance and retribution.

For the first time, Fuyuhiko felt like he understood his parents. Their grief tied them together.

"She wouldn't," Mr. Kuzuryuu agreed, tired. "Fuyuhiko, investigate the school from the inside. Use your talent as the Ultimate Yakuza and strike down whoever killed Natsumi. Kill them, torture them, whatever. The power of the Clan will make anything and anyone disappear.

Mr. Kuzuryuu looked at Peko, who stared back and nodded. It was a silent order to stay by Fuyuhiko's side and protect him no matter the consequences. She would not stop even if Hope's Peak stood in her way. At the thought of being stopped, Peko remembered how easily parried by that girl with Junko.

She felt so powerless against her, so horribly useless for her Young Master. What was all those years of training even worth? Why was she even born if she couldn't protect her Young Master? Peko never wanted to feel that despair ever again.

Mr. Kuzuryuu stared into Fuyuhiko's eyes, a tense connection forming between the two of them.

"Don't disappoint your sister, Fuyuhiko."

The words opened up a black hole inside of the Yakuza, sucking in all his feelings and emotions. A numbness spread throughout him, an empty sensation that swallowed Fuyuhiko whole. Fuyuhiko knew that his father was right. He couldn't pussy out of this.

Fuyuhiko was going to find Natsumi's killer.

Fuyuhiko was going to make the school pay for hiding the truth

Fuyuhiko was not going to let Natsumi's death be in vain.

* * *

Twilight faded into a deep night, one so lonesome that Mahiru felt a little worried as she walked around by herself towards the academy dorms. After the funeral, she wanted to be left alone and managed to separate herself from the rest of the class. It was only after Chisa had given her some pepper-spray did she leave.

Mahiru felt miserable, even more so after her assault. She knew that Natsumi was behind the attack and sure she was mad at the blonde. Yet, the Photographer didn't wish Natsumi was dead. That was too much, too cruel.

Natsumi was just driven over the edge because of the academy, and her desperation to go to the Main Course. Mahiru understood her feelings no matter how twisted they were. 

' _But, does that make me more twisted than Natsumi?_ ' she wondered to herself, taking out her camera and looking at the picture she took on the day of the incident.

It was a broken vase from the classroom next to the music room where Natusmi's body was discovered. Mahiru already felt bad about not calling the police, but this made her feel worse. She went over every possibility of the broken vase in her head last night, desperately trying to delude herself that it wasn't Sato.

But, nothing made sense and her theories collapsed under common sense.

The only possible way for the vase to break without being cleaned up was that it was broken just moments before Mahiru and the others ran over.

There was only one person that could have murdered Natsumi.

The only student that came from the hallway was Sato.

Mahiru felt her throat constrict, choking her as she suspected her friend. She didn't want to suspect Sato, no matter how unstable she seemed lately. Mahiru knew and loved Sato. There was just no way that the protective and kind Sato would do this crime, right?

Uncertainty filled her mind, a tug of war of whether to believe in or distrust Sato. Mahiru exhaled, tired from the mental and emotional strain over the past few days. ' _There's no choice. I can't just let this slide_ ,' she thought to herself, tucking the camera away. She would have to develop the photo later to show to Sato, just to have physical evidence about her lie.

 _'If Sato did something wrong, then as her friend, I have to help her do_ _t_ _he right thing.'_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> note: dun-dun! 
> 
> Finally, we get Junko interactions with others from Class 77. Apologies for the short tidbit of the Director here, but the Twilight Syndrome Murder Case is centered around Fuyuhiko/Mahiru, so they will be sharing the spotlight. But, never fear the Director will play a part later on (more or less) that spreads the despair. 
> 
> On a brighter note, Junko's outfit is (https://hips.hearstapps.com/hmg-prod.s3.amazonaws.com/images/vilanelle-black-dress-1586963181.jpg?crop=1xw:1xh;center,top&resize=980:*) 
> 
> Canon Notes 
> 
> 1.) Hope's Peak Academy will be facing backlash for Natsumi's death as well as its cover up, which makes sense tbh. It also makes it easier for Junko to take advantage of the situation for The Tragedy. 
> 
> 2.) I don't want to believe that Fuyuhiko would just go out and murder someone in cold-blood without investigating them first. Considering that he hesitated in k-wording Mahiru in the sdr2 game, I want to characterize Fuyuhiko as a leader who thinks before he leaps unlike Natsumi. 
> 
> 3.) Junko will be having relationships with members of the 77th Class. For example, Fuyuhiko and Mikan. Some students will be falling into despair through their relationships with Junko in the background, again calling back to the idea that hope and despair are a disease.  
> 3.) Junko will be having relationships with members of the 77th Class. For example, Fuyuhiko and Mikan. Some students will be falling into despair through their relationships with Junko in the background, again calling back to the idea that hope and despair are a disease.
> 
> Leave a comment and a heart if you love this fic!


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